I Need You
by This Ren
Summary: When Tony ends his relationship with Gibbs and leaves for Washington, he has high expectations, but not everything turns out to be sunshine and rainbows, and he realizes leaving Gibbs may just have been his biggest mistake. Note: T/G slash. Hurt/Comfort.
1. Chapter 1: The Break Up

**Disclaimer:** NCIS doesn't belong to me.

**A/N: Just some things to point out before we begin:**

**1) **To avoid confusion, by Washington, I am referring to Washington State, not D.C. I don't know if there's actually an NCIS office in Washington, but in this story, there is. If you know differently, you can mention it in a review, but it's unlikely that I'll change it. I like the Northwest.

**2) **This is slash. Tibbs slash to be precise.

**3) **If you don't like slash, or you have a problem with Tibbs, instead of posting rude comments that I'll ignore after reading, just hit the back button. Obviously, this story is not for you, and you're biased, rude comments will fall on deaf ears. Seriously, I've given you plenty of warning, so don't waste your time.

**4) **There will be lots of Tabby friendship! No romance, just friendship.

**5) **This is rated M. I'm not being paranoid. While you may not see it in the beginning, there's some graphic stuff later on...and I'm not talking about guy on guy action...though there could be some of that too.

**With that said, **I do hope you'll enjoy!

**Chapter One**

**The Break Up**

Sitting in the living room, Tony knew he had no choice but to go through with the plan he'd been formulating. While his heart was beating like a racehorse in his chest, he knew there was no way to avoid what was about to happen. He'd made up his mind and, it was just time for the hard part. 12 years was a long time, and he loved Jethro more than he'd ever loved any other human being in the world, but he couldn't survive on love alone.

"I thought you'd be up in bed by now," Jethro said when he'd found Tony sitting in the living room, having finished work on the boat and heading upstairs himself.

"No," Tony shook his head, and he regretted the late hour.

The tone in his voice made Jethro stop before he could continue up the stairs.

"What's going on?" Jethro asked, heading further into the living room and sitting on the coffee table in front of Tony.

Tony stared over his shoulder at the large screen TV that Jethro never watched unless begged too. His lover looked so concerned, so worried about him, that he wanted to take it all back. He loved him, maybe this was the wrong choice. But it wasn't, and Tony knew that. He wish it could be easier, though.

"Tony?" Jethro pushed reaching out to take his hand, but Tony pulled it away.

Blunt. Short and to the point. That was the best way to do this.

"I'm moving," Tony replied.

"Moving?" Jethro asked, perplexed.

"Moving," Tony confirmed with a short nod of his head.

"Tony," Jethro tried to touch him again again, but Tony pulled his whole body back. "I know things haven't been perfect lately, but you don't need to move. We can figure this out."

"I don't want to figure this out," Tony shook his head, wringing his hands together in his lap. "It's just gotten to the point where it's not going to work anymore. The time to figure it out passed a long time ago. Now it's just time to let go."

"Where is this coming from?" Jethro demanded, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Tony just sighed. He didn't want to argue. They'd been doing that too much lately.

"I accepted a promotion," Tony explained. "The director offered me my own team. It's a wonderful opportunity for my career."

It was Jethro's turn to pull back, as if he'd received a physical blow instead of a calm explanation.

"Where?" Jethro asked.

"Washington," he knew there was no point in drawing this out. "I'll be heading up my own team out of the Northwest office. I leave in 2 weeks."

"And this promotion is worth more to you than us?" The words stung, but Tony knew that Jethro wasn't going to take this lightly. After all, Jethro had invested just as much time and effort into their relationship as he had.

"No. Of course not," Tony shook his head. "I love you, I just…I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of all the secrets. I'm tired of what I'm doing with my life right now. I need to figure out who I've become and what I'm doing, Jethro, and the ways things are right now are just making the both of us miserable."

Jethro couldn't argue that point. They'd both known for a while that whatever they were doing wasn't making them happy. Between work and trying to ignore it, they had never fixed the problems that had accumulated over the years.

"I love you," Tony sighed, "but this isn't working."

"And you don't want to try," Jethro finished.

"No," Tony agreed.

Jethro stood up and made his way towards the stairs, the tension hanging in the room so heavy it could be scooped up with a spoon.

"If you don't mind, I'll stay here tonight, on the couch, and I'll check into a hotel tomorrow," Tony called, and his lover paused on the stairs.

"Don't bother. This is your home, you can stay here," Jethro responded. "Unless it'll be too awkward for you."

Tony didn't say anything, and Jethro was already up the stairs before Tony really could. With a sigh, he leaned his head back into the couch wondering if he'd done the right thing. For the last 12 years Jethro had been everything to him. He quailed those thoughts before they could begin though. He'd made up his mind, and it was too late to change anything now. He was going to Washington, where his own team was awaiting him, and he'd put his shattered heart behind him.

* * *

**A/N: **I know Gibbs is a bit out of character. I know. Other than that, any thoughts?


	2. Chapter 2: The Goodbye

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS

**A/N: **I will probably update this story every other day, but don't hold me too that. Life is an adventure that hard to foresee.

**Chapter Two**

**The Goodbye**

"Tony!" Abby cried, grabbing him in a hug so tight he thought his head might explode. "I can't believe you're really leaving!"

"We'll keep in touch," Tony promised her, careful not to spill his glass of punch down her back. "And I'll be back to visit, and you can visit me."

"I know, but it won't be the same!" Abby complained as McGee pried her off of him. "We've worked together for ten years! Ten years Tony! Now somebody new will be sitting at your desk, and I'll have nobody to joke with and go to crazy clubs with and…and…no more movie nights!"

"I didn't realize you guys spent so much time together," McGee said as Abby paused for a breath.

"Of course, Timmy!" Abby cried. "You wouldn't believe some of the crazy things we've done. Gibbs almost killed us that one time."

"Numerous times," Tony corrected her with a grin, even though the name sent a stab to his heart.

Living and working with the man had been a nightmare for the last two weeks. He'd been glad that McGee and Ziva were there as a buffer to keep him in line on the job, or he might have cracked the moment he looked at his boss on that first day after their conversation. While staying in the same house with him was harder, Gibbs had spent the majority of his free time in the basement, coming out only when Tony had already fallen to sleep on the couch.

Sneaking a glance across the squad room, he saw the man in question talking with Ziva and another agent who had decided to attend the small farewell party Abby insisted on throwing. He was talking and laughing, and it sent another stab to his heart. They'd barely spoken outside of work, and they'd barley spoken during work. It was unfamiliar and awkward and he didn't like it. Nothing between he and Jethro had ever been awkward- even when they were pissed off at each other.

"He's going to miss you," Abby assured him when Tim had left to grab them all a piece of cake, and Tony knew she wasn't talking about his Probie.

"I doubt it," Tony replied.

"What did he say when you told him about the promotion? Was he excited for you?" Abby questioned.

He hadn't told her everything when he'd spilled the beans about leaving. He hadn't told her that their relationship wasn't going to remain intact, that it had already ended despite their continued living arrangement.

"I wouldn't say that," Tony shook his head, diverting his gaze when Jethro looked over at him.

"He was upset?" Abby asked.

"We broke up," Tony blurted out.

Aside from Ducky, who was currently regaling a group of young agents with a story from years past, Abby was the only person who knew about the relationship. She was the only one who actually spent time with them as a couple, as Ducky, while not against it, had never been very supportive, citing several reasons over the years. Tony was going to miss the ease the three of them had gained over the last decade.

"What? He was that upset?" Abby was stunned.

"It was just the most logical thing to do," Tony sighed. "I'll be across the country, and he'll be here working just as much as always. It's better this way, for us."

"That's bull shit," Abby called him on it.

"It's how things are," Tony shrugged just as McGee came back with the cake.

Tony accepted his with a fake smile and thanked the younger agent. He would miss McGee, and Abby, and Ziva, and Ducky, and Palmer, and Jethro. Jethro. He would certainly miss Jethro, no matter what.

As the party was winding down, and Abby had packed the remaining quarter of the cake for him to take home, Jethro approached the two. They stood their awkwardly for a moment before Jethro stuck his hand out, in full on boss mode.

"Congratulations, Tony," Jethro said as they shook.

But then they were hugging, and Tony felt like he was going to cry, though he kept the tears at bay. DiNozzo's DON'T cry! Jethro gripped him tightly with one arm, their hands still joined and pressed between their bodies. Tony gripped him back, once again hating his decision all the while knowing it was the right one to make.

"I'll miss you," Jethro breathed in his ear. "I love you."

Tony had to clench his jaw to prevent the tears that were threatening him. Forcing his hand out of the other man's tight grasp, he wrapped his other arm around his torso tightly, not caring that several people could see their hug that was clearly a little too friendly.

"I love you too," Tony murmured just as he felt a third body plastered against them, and he grinned.

"I love you both," Abby said, and both men enveloped her into their hug.

"And we love you too, Abs," Jethro assured her.

How long they stood that way, Tony wasn't sure, but it couldn't have been that long. When they pulled apart, it was to see that everybody in the squad room was staring at them. Ziva and McGee had startled expressions on their faces, and Ducky was frowning.

* * *

"I'll see you soon," Tony assured Abby as they stood in the middle of Dulles terminal. "I'll call you the minute I land."

"I'm not worried," Abby told him, unable to hide her wet eyes. "I'm just going to miss you!"

"I'll miss you too," Tony said.

They hugged for what felt like the millionth time, and Tony kissed her cheek before he grabbed the handle of his bag and made his way to the security checkpoint. They waved at each other enthusiastically when he'd gotten through and headed towards his check- in area across the building. He heard people 'awww' at them, assuming they were a couple, and it made Tony smile and feel bittersweet.

He hadn't seen Jethro since the party. He'd stayed with Abby that night, so they could get to the airport early the next morning for his flight. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he thought about calling, but then replaced the gadget. It was over, time to move on. Washington was waiting for him, and his own team.

* * *

**A/N: Any thoughts?**


	3. Chapter 3: The Phone Call

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **I'm not sure if I mentioned, some of these chapters will be really short, and other will be less short. None will be 'long'.

**Also**, this is mostly a hurt/comfort story. Pardon me if I didn't mention that in the beginning. It slipped my mind. It's not really about Tony leading his own team somewhere else, though there will be some of that thrown in...I really am not fond of those stories. Sorry if I misrepresented this fic...

**Chapter Three**

**The Phone Call**

**10 Months Later:**

"I don't need a reason," Tony snapped at the young, female agent standing in front of his desk. "I gave you a direct order, and you ignored it."

"My way was better," she said stubbornly.

She reminded him of Kate, only worse. Kate would never have blatantly disrespected Gibbs the way Agent Morris had been disrespecting him since the moment he walked through the door to start work in the Northwest office so many months earlier.

"Your 'better' way got a hostage killed!" Tony cried, slamming his hands down on the desk in front of him.

"We also killed the bad guy!" Morris tried.

"And I'm the one who has to explain to the Director why exactly we're going to be sued by the hostages family for wrongful death! News Flash Agent Morris: you don't kill the innocent because you feel like killing the bad guy instead of arresting him!" Tony was beyond furious.

She stamped her feet and growled at him at his outburst, but then she turned around and pranced out of the office. Miss Princess, as he'd dubbed her the moment he'd laid eyes on her, was getting on his last nerves. Just because the SecNav was her uncle, he had to tolerate her and her terrible job skills. He couldn't help but think she'd be better off spending all of her time in a mall. If only Assistant Director Bradly would listen to him when he insisted the girl was nothing but a lawsuit waiting to happen.

"What do you think Vance is going to say?" Agent Larkin, the Senior Field Agent, wondered.

"I think we'll all be lucky to have jobs in the morning," Tony muttered, just as the phone on his desk rang shrilly.

Stealing himself, he knew who was on the other end of that line, and he knew he was going to get an earful for not getting to the director before the director could get to him. If his bad luck held out, the footage of Morris shooting the criminal and the hostage was on the news and the internet already, and he was absolutely screwed. At least he had several documented complaints regarding Morris's behavior. Perhaps Vance would go easy on him when he realized the girl was only on his team because she'd been forced on him.

"DiNozzo," Tony said into the phone, putting on an upbeat personality.

"Tony!" Abby squealed so loudly that Agent Larkin looked over at him instantly.

"Hey Abs," he greeted her, swiveling in his chair to face the wall behind him.

"What's wrong? You sound like something's wrong. You're still coming right? I'm still picking you up from the airport Saturday morning right? If you're not coming I swear I'm going to kill you. You know I've been looking forward to your visit since last month!" She was breathless and fuming by the time she'd ended her rant.

"I'm still coming, Abs," he assured her. "You'll have me for an entire week. Promise."

"What's wrong then?" Abby wondered.

"Long day, nothing you need to worry about," Tony sighed, as his phone began to beep and he shuddered at the possibility of who it could be. "I've got another call coming in. I'll Skype you tonight when I get home. Sound good?"

"Of course," Abby answered, and he could mentally see her bobbing her head. "Bye."

"Bye Abs," he said, and he pressed the blinking button on his phone. "DiNozzo."

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

"This is he," Tony said, trying to keep his temper and anxiety in check to deal with whoever was on the phone.

The unfamiliar person began to talk, and Tony's eyes went wide at what he was being told. After a moment he slammed the phone back down in its cradle and stood up from his desk.

"You okay, Tony?" Larkin asked, glancing up from his computer to see what was going on.

"Why don't you head home?" Tony suggested, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and heading for the glass doors that lead into the hallway outside of their office. "I'll handle Vance. I'll see you in the morning."

"Bye," Larkin called, but Tony didn't hear him as he'd already reached the elevator and was smashing his hand on the down arrow.

* * *

**A/N: **Hmm...who was on the phone? Any thoughts?


	4. Chapter 4: The Middle of the Night

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **You should all be happy you get this update, because I just about killed my computer second ago when it pretty much erased all the edits I spent this morning making to this chapter. Talk about irritating...

**Other than that, **I've decided to update this story every morning. I have a lot of chapters stockpiled and waiting for upload. There's really no point in waiting every few days when they're already there...

**Chapter Four**

**The Middle of the Night**

Jethro grumbled as he descended the stairs. It was barely five o'clock in the morning, and he'd only gotten home from work an hour before. He'd had no problem falling to sleep thanks to the exhaustion that accompanied the unusually difficult case, but the banging on his front door pulled him out of his peaceful oblivion and reminded him that he'd locked it when he got home. He had no idea who would be visiting him at that time of morning, but they weren't going away, even though he'd ignored them for a full five minutes before reluctantly pulling back his blankets and getting out of bed.

Flipping the lock, he was pissed off as he pulled the door inward, but the fury quickly dissipated when he took in the sight before him.

"Hey," Tony said softly, as if losing his gusto after all that pounding on the door. "Did I wake you?"

"Yeah," Jethro replied. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was just in the neighborhood," Tony replied with such cheerfulness in his voice that Jethro wondered if he was drunk. "Thought I'd swing by and see you."

"I thought you weren't coming until Saturday?" Jethro questioned, having heard nonstop from Abby about the upcoming visit of his former lover and how she wanted them to all get together for dinner during the week.

"Came a little early," Tony replied. "Can I come in? It's cold out here!"

It was cold. The front yard was piled with snow from the last storm they'd had a day earlier.

"Yeah, come in," Jethro finally said, and he stepped out of the way so Tony could come in.

The moment the younger man stepped into the light, Jethro knew the churning in his gut was not because Tony was drunk visiting him. The younger man wasn't drunk at all.

"What happened to your face?" Jethro demanded, grabbing his chin to inspect the damage, but Tony squirmed away with a wince.

"I got into a fight, it's nothing," Tony replied, and Jethro knew the cheer in his voice was being faked by the look in his eye.

While Tony was excellent at undercover, Jethro knew him a lot better than anybody else. He'd lived with the man for ten years. He knew when he was happy, he knew when he was pissed, and he knew when he was faking just about anything by the look in the man's eyes- the tiny little glimpses that Tony was unable to hide.

"It's not nothing," Jethro refused.

There was bruising beneath both of his eyes, and the entire right side of his face was black and blue from the eyebrow down. His lip was split and there were gouges down both sides of his neck, which disappeared beneath the collar of his jacket and shirt.

"Don't make a big deal out of it," Tony pleaded, his voice crumbling. "I had to take care of something. It's not an issue."

Jethro stared at him.

"Please," Tony tried.

The cheery façade was pissing him off.

"I need somewhere to stay," Tony said, looking at the ground, biting his split lip and then wincing and letting go as a fresh bout of blood began to fill the slit. "Just for a few days."

He was half tempted to tell Tony to leave, but he knew he couldn't do it.

"Fine," Jethro said, and Tony looked up at him, surprised. "You can sleep on the couch."

"Thanks," Tony grinned, but the smile was short lived. "Can you not tell anybody I'm here? I can't let anybody see me like this! Let alone Abby."

"Fine," Jethro said.

Ten minutes later he was back in bed, but he knew he wasn't getting anymore sleep that night. He'd taken a pillow and blanket down to Tony, who was already passed out on the couch, even though he'd only been gone for two minutes. Jethro had watched him for a few seconds before pulling off his shoes and covering him with the comfortable blanket he knew Tony liked. His gut was churning as he lay in bed, and had been since the banging had first started at the door. Tony might not want to talk about it, but the next day, when he was refreshed, Jethro was certainly going to get the story out of him.

* * *

**A/N: **It didn't answer any questions for the last chapter...I guess it only presented new questions...but they'll be answered throughout the story.

**Any Thoughts?**


	5. Chapter 5: The Next Morning

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N:** I know this chapter is very short, and it doesn't really answer any of your questions, but be assured, you'll get answers soon enough.

**Chapter Five**

**The Next Morning**

Tony awoke groggily, wrapped in a cocoon of fabric. It took him a moment to realize where he was, but then he smiled. He was home. Sitting up, his aching body protested, and he groaned. The sun was streaming through the living room windows, and a glance at the clock on the wall told him it was just before nine o'clock in the morning. Forcing his broken body up, he headed for the kitchen.

There was a pot of coffee already made, and a note on the fridge from Jethro saying he'd gone to work and would be home later that afternoon. Tony took a mug and headed upstairs. It was slow going, but he finally managed it, holding onto the guard rail and pausing at each step to wince and encourage himself to keep going. Finally stepping onto the landing, he pushed the door to the bedroom open and made his way inside.

The bed was made neatly just as Jethro always insisted. It looked just the way it had when Tony had left, right down to the television on the dresser across from the bed. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere, but he knew Jethro hadn't used the machine. He was almost positive that if he headed down to the basement he'd find the same half built boat that had been there when he'd left. Jethro was certainly a creature of habit.

He stripped off his clothes in the familiar bathroom, groaning as the blood stained fabric pulled away from his tender, bruise riddled- skin. A look in the mirror told him the bruising had gotten worse while he'd slept, and he refused to look at his torso until he was beneath the jet of hot water.

Red water pooled around his feet as he stood there looking at the tiled floor, shivering and trying to not think about what had happened the previous day. Very carefully he pulled away the gauze pad that he'd taped to his abdomen. He'd stopped at a small drug store back in Washington for first aid supplies to dress his wounds, but they hadn't really helped. The bandage was covered in blood, and the wound continued to weep the red liquid when he pulled at the skin, breaking the thin scab that had formed. He moaned from the pain, unable to keep it inside as it overwhelmed him.

He was battered and bruised, and he was very grateful that Jethro hadn't had to watch him do more than walk a few steps the night before. Had he, Tony was sure he'd have been forced to the hospital the moment he walked through the door. If he was lucky, Jethro wouldn't notice a thing, and Tony would be free to spend the next few days relaxing in the familiar house while he healed up.

* * *

**A/N: **Like I said, I know it's short, and it didn't tell you what happened, but if it had, there would be no point for the rest of the story. I'll most likely, to make up for this very short chapter, post another this evening.

**Any thoughts?**


	6. Chapter 6: The Mistake

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS

**A/N: **This chapter is much longer than that last one...

**Chapter Six**

**The Mistake**

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" Abby cried the moment she stepped out of the elevator and ran towards the bullpen, her platform boots making loud 'clomping' noises on the cheap carpet. "Gibbs!"

"What?" Jethro demanded, looking up from his desk, annoyed at being pulled from his work.

"I've been called to speak with the Director about Tony!" Abby told him, anguish in her eyes. "Something's wrong! I just know it is! What if he's dead? What if the director wants to tell me that Tony's dead? Oh my god! Oh my god, Gibbs! Tony's dead!" She wasn't thinking rationally, and he sighed as he rubbed his tired eyes.

"He's not dead," Jethro assured her as the three other agents in the bull pen looked at Abby confused.

"Than what does the Director want to talk to me about Tony for?" Abby demanded. "If he was perfectly fine, he wouldn't want to talk to ME!"

Jethro stood up and pulled her into a hug in an attempt to soothe her frayed nerves.

"Tony is fine," he tried to ease her anxiety, but she remained tense in his arms.

"How would you know?" Abby demanded quietly. "You haven't talked to him since he left for Washington."

"Let's go talk to the director. I'm sure he'll tell you the exact same thing I did," Jethro told her, and he laid a hand on the small of her back as they walked towards the staircase that would take them to the Directors Office.

The receptionist, whose name Jethro had never bothered to learn after Cynthia had left, let Vance know they had arrived and sent them through the double doors only a moment later. Vance was sitting at the head of the conference table, and Jethro led Abby to sit in the seat to his left, where he motioned with a hand for her to sit.

"I wasn't aware you would be joining us, Gibbs," Vance commented when Jethro sat beside Abby at the table.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't be here?" Jethro countered.

Vance gave him a long look before he turned his gaze on Abby. "You spoke with Special Agent DiNozzo yesterday?"

Abby glanced at Gibbs before she nodded. "Yeah. I called him when I got off work last night."

"What did you talk about?" Vance asked.

"Nothing," Abby said, her voice warbling. "We only talked for a few moments. He said he was having a bad day and that he was getting another call and that he would talk to me later."

"Did you talk after that?"

"He sent me a text pretty late and said that he'd gotten busy and would call me today. I haven't heard from him since, but it's only morning. He usually calls me in the afternoon," Abby replied. "Did something happen to Tony? Is he okay? Where is he?"

"That's what we're trying to determine," Vance responded. "Special Agent DiNozzo's home was vandalized last night, and nobody has heard from him since he left work yesterday afternoon."

"Oh no!" Abby clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

Jethro kept his mouth shut. Tony had asked him not to tell anybody where he was, and with Vance's information, he decided he needed answers from Tony before he betrayed the promise that he'd made. Tony obviously didn't trust NCIS enough to report whatever had happened to him the night before, and Jethro needed to know why.

"If you hear from Agent DiNozzo, you should let me know immediately, Miss Scuito," Vance finished off their meeting.

Abby allowed Jethro to pull her out her seat and escort her to the door, before she turned around to address the director.

"Who is investigating this?" She questioned.

"Agent Remers team is conducting the investigation. Should we learn anything I will let you know," Vance assured her.

Abby nodded, and they left the office with weights on their chests. Jethro couldn't wait to get back to the house to confront Tony, and Abby was sniffling softly as she tried to keep herself from crying. He pulled her into a tight hug when they reached the top of the stairs, and she buried her face in his chest.

"What if he's dead, Gibbs?" Abby wondered as tears began to leak from her eyes. "What if somebody broke into his house and killed him and disposed of his body somewhere? He's supposed to come visit me on Saturday! I haven't seen him in months, since I was there this summer. We were going to go to all of our favorite places, and eat all of our favorite foods, and party, and drink and…and…and now he's gone!"

"Relax Abs," he shushed her. "He's not dead until they find his body. I don't care what Remers team finds. He's not dead until there's a body." And there wasn't a body, as the man in question was occupying the couch in his own living room at that exact moment.

He didn't catch a break until lunch, and he hurried home to find that the couch was empty. It was nearly one o'clock in the afternoon, so he wasn't surprised Tony was no longer asleep, but he'd expected to find him in the living room. The kitchen was also empty, as well as the basement and the downstairs bathroom. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs he heard the television in the bedroom playing, and he berated himself for not realizing that Tony would find the only room in the house with a television.

The door was open, and he walked to the doorway to find Tony sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed, staring up at the television on the dresser that he'd never bothered to get rid of despite the fact that he never watched it. Tony looked over when he tapped lightly on the doorframe, and Jethro noticed he'd changed into a pair of his own seats and an NIS t-shirt.

Jethro sat on the end of the bed, and used the remote to turn the television off. Tony looked up at him, the purple bruising on his face more pronounced than it was the previous day.

"I wasn't expecting you back until tonight," Tony admitted.

"I was…worried," Jethro replied. "You need to tell me what happened."

"I don't want to talk about it," Tony refused, turning to look at the empty television screen.

"You have to tell me. Vance called Abby into his office this morning. She thinks your dead. What happened to your apartment?" Jethro slid to the floor and positioned himself in front of Tony so he couldn't look away and wouldn't have to turn his head to talk.

"I'll call Abby and tell her I'm fine," Tony sighed.

"I'll handle Abby," Jethro assured him. "Now you need to tell me what happened."

"I don't want to talk about it," Tony responded, his voice clipped with anger. "It's not a big deal."

"If it's not a big deal you're going to lose your job," Jethro warned him. "You didn't show up for work this morning."

"You used to do that all the time," Tony reminded him.

Jethro cracked a grin. "You're not me."

"Special treatment!" Tony said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart and feigning horror.

"Talk to me Tony. You came here so I could help you and I can't do that if you don't tell me what's going on," Jethro prodded.

"I didn't come here for help," Tony disagreed, looking down at the carpet beneath him.

Jethro remained silent as he waited for the younger man to talk to him, but Tony didn't speak.

"You came here for a reason," Jethro pointed out. "If it wasn't for my help, then what?"

The silence lasted so long, Jethro thought Tony wasn't going to answer him, but just as he opened his, Tony opened his.

"I missed you," he said tentatively. "And I made a mistake."

"What mistake?" Jethro pressed.

"Going to Washington," Tony shrugged, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "I wish I hadn't. It was a mistake. I was stupid…I came here…I just wanted to come home, Jethro. I just wanted to come home."

Jethro just stared at him, not knowing what to say to that. When Tony had left for the Northwest office all those months ago, insisting he didn't want what they had anymore, Jethro had been heartbroken. He'd dealt with it and supported Tony, but inside he'd been cracking apart. Losing Tony had been difficult, but he'd managed.

"Tell me what happened," Jethro finally pleaded with him, deciding to leave Tony's admission for another conversation. "Tell me what happened in Washington. Who did this to you?"

Tony just shook his head in refusal.

"Give me a reason why I shouldn't tell Vance that you're here," Jethro warned him, keeping his voice gentle despite his frustration.

"Tell him, and I'll leave before he shows up," Tony threw back at him, a touch of anger in his soft voice.

Jethro knew he wouldn't tell a soul. As frustrated and angry about the situation he was, his personal feelings got in the way. No matter how angry and heartbroken he'd been since Tony left him, he'd missed him more, and he loved him even more than he missed him. It wasn't logical, but it was the way things were.

"I won't tell, but you're going to have to come clean eventually," Jethro sighed as he stood up. "Get off the floor. The bed's not going to break if you sit on it. I'll make lunch."

He didn't see Tony move until he was standing on the landing just outside the door, and he sighed at the stiff, uncomfortable movements. The bruising and cuts on his neck and face looked bad, but Jethro knew there was more beneath the clothing the younger man had taken from his dresser. He wouldn't tell Vance what was going on, but he'd tell Ducky. He trusted Ducky, and Tony needed somebody to look at him.

* * *

**A/N: **A much longer chapter. Better, yes? The next chapter will be posted tomorrow!

**Any thoughts?**


	7. Chapter 7: The Exam

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **While I did say I would update yesterday, I didn't really feel like it. I had the day off work- which is beyond rare as I **literally** work 24/7- so I took some time away from the computer and had an enjoyable, lazy day with my family and friends. It was nice, and now here's a chapter for you.

**Chapter Seven**

**The Exam**

"Shouldn't you be getting back to work?" Tony asked when Jethro returned to the bedroom fifteen minutes later carrying a plate containing a sandwich and some chips.

"Soon," Jethro shrugged. "Eat."

"Thanks," Tony said as he accepted the plate, but his stomach rolled at the thought of eating the food.

Instead of leaving, Jethro stood beside the bed staring at him. "Eat."

"I will," Tony replied.

Just to appease the older man, who wasn't moving, Tony reached forward and took a bite of the sandwich. Had his stomach not been protesting, and the cuts in his mouth not be irritating him, he would have enjoyed the sandwich. Jethro knew just what he liked. Chewing slowly and carefully, he swallowed the small bite and turned back to his 'server'.

"Are you going to stand there until I'm finished?" Tony demanded, setting the plate down on the bed in front of him.

"No," Jethro shook his head.

There was a soft knocking on the door downstairs, but it opened without pause. Tony looked up at Jethro confused, but Jethro didn't seem surprised, and his uncomfortable stomach dropped.

"You didn't call him," Tony protested pushing the plate away, spilling the chips onto the blanket beneath it in his attempt to get off the bed.

Jethro grabbed his shoulders and Tony winced from pain as the older man pushed him back down onto the bed. Had he not been in so much pain, all over his damn body, Tony might have been able to get away from him, but not in his current condition.

"Relax," Jethro ordered as Ducky stepped into the bedroom. "I didn't call Vance."

"I told you not to tell anybody!" Tony said fiercely.

"No. You told me not to tell Vance," Jethro corrected him, letting go of his shoulders as he stopped struggling. "You need to be checked out though, and knowing you, a hospital is out of the question. Let Ducky look at you. You're not going to tell anybody he's here, are you Ducky?"

"Of course not," Ducky replied as he set his medical bag on the end of the bed.

Tony was silent and his expression sullen for a moment before he consented to being looked over by the elderly Medical Examiner. He trusted Ducky. He knew the man wouldn't do anything to harm him.

"Go away," Tony told Jethro when Ducky told him to remove his shirt.

"Why?" Jethro demanded.

Tony just stared at him with determination in his eyes.

"Fine," Jethro sighed. "I'll be downstairs. Call me if you need anything."

He watched Jethro go and sighed with relief. He didn't care if Ducky told Jethro all about every injury on him, he just didn't want him to SEE it. It made him feel uncomfortable being watched and scrutinized by people who didn't need to see his injuries.

"Take your shirt off," Ducky repeated himself as the door snapped shut.

Reluctantly, Tony pulled the NIS shirt he'd stolen from Jethro's drawer over his head to reveal the pattern of bruising and cuts that covered his abdomen. Ducky stared at him in awe for a moment.

"What in the world happened to you?" Ducky demanded as he pulled the gauze patch away from the still bleeding wound. "I don't know how much I'm going to be able to do. You really should be in a hospital. You could have severe internal damage, Anthony."

"I'm not going to the hospital," Tony shook his head, knowing he was going to encounter this from the ME. "Just look at me and tell Jethro I'm fine so he'll get off my back."

"I will do no such thing. You're not fine," Ducky refused. "This is going to need stitches."

Tony leaned back into the pillows and let the elderly man palpate his stomach and clean the wound. He cringed in pain as it was stitched up, despite the local anesthetic the doctor used. His entire torso was examined and prodded and palpated and his head as well, but Tony refused to remove his pants for the elderly doctor to see anything else.

"No," Tony refused stubbornly. "There's nothing bad down there anyway."

"Don't make me ask Jethro to come in here and remove them for me," Ducky threatened impatiently. "If you're not going to go to the hospital, you're going to let me examine you."

Ducky wasn't joking, and Tony knew it. Trying to calm down, Tony removed the sweats he'd borrowed from Jethro's dresser and pulled his t-shirt back on, as if that would keep a bit of his dignity intact. As the doctors eyes went wide, Tony clenched his jaw in frustration.

"My dear boy," Ducky sighed, patting him on the shoulder. "Whoever did this to you?"

"Doesn't matter," Tony wouldn't say. "It's nothing."

"This isn't nothing," Ducky told him, but his entire demeanor had changed. He was back to the caring old doctor he'd always been, as if he hadn't been exceedingly frustrated with his charge only a second ago.

The thick red welts that wound around his penis stung even more when Ducky touched one, but Tony refused to let him bandage the one that was cracked open and raw. A bandage on his most private and sensitive place was only going to make him more uncomfortable.

Tony adamantly refused when the doctor wanted to check his other side. He cussed the doctor up and down when he'd finally given into the exam, and he wanted to cry when Ducky patted him on the back and told him he could put his pants back on. He'd wanted to hide it. He'd wanted to pretend that nothing at all had happened below the belt, and now that was impossible.

"Who did this to you?" Ducky wondered as a fully dressed Tony wrapped his arms around his chest and sat stiffly on the bed.

"Doesn't matter," Tony replied.

Ducky watched him for a moment, knowing not to press, before he handed him a couple of ibuprophen from a bottle in his bag. It was the strongest he could give him without a prescription, and Ducky wasn't allowed to write prescriptions. Usually, his patients didn't require them.

Tony watched Ducky finally leave the room before folding himself into a ball on the bed that was so familiar yet now uninviting. He wished he'd never gone to Washington. He wished he'd never left the one person who would have protected him from anything.

* * *

**A/N: **Poor, poor Tony. Why must I be so mean to him? Certainly he did not need that much pain inflicted upon him... The next chapter will be up tomorrow.

**Any thoughts?**


	8. Chapter 8: The Talk with Ducky

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **So I'm just going to mention this because I get it in a lot of reviews. I know that the story isn't answering any questions about who did do what to Tony and why. Those questions are going to be answered towards the end of the story. Having experience with people who have encountered the same kind of attack, I know how reluctant people are to talking about what they went through, and Tony is no exception. I think he'd be even more reluctant to talk to Jethro as it can be hardest to talk about these kinds of things with the people who are closest to you (of course, obviously that isn't everybody who has encountered something of this nature, but from my experience with it, it's not uncommon). So yeah, the answers are coming, you're just going to have to wait. I hope that doesn't turn you off from this story, but in trying to stay realistic, this is how the story is going to progress.

**Chapter Eight**

**The Talk with Ducky**

"How is he?" Jethro asked the moment Ducky stepped into the kitchen.

He'd been picking at a sandwich since he'd come back downstairs, but his thoughts were on the man upstairs and trying to figure out what was going on inside of his head. Something had happened, most probably in Washington, but without more information, he couldn't come up with what exactly that was, and he couldn't help Tony.

"He's lucky he's alive," Ducky replied, glancing towards the stairs and Jethro could see the worry on his face. "What happened, Jethro?"

"He won't tell me," Jethro replied.

"I'm not surprised," Ducky commented, setting the medical bag on the kitchen table, and fiddling with the straps. "Whoever did this…they're disgusting, Jethro. They're cruel and heartless and absolutely disgusting."

Jethro furrowed his brow in confusion. He knew Tony was hurt, and he knew Tony wasn't thinking logically at the moment, and yes, he wanted to kill the bastard that had touched his Tony, but he had no idea it was as bad as what Ducky was telling him it was.

"They've violated him in ways no person should ever be," Ducky explained without being prompted. "He's black and blue, but his mental condition is much worse than his physical."

Jethro felt his heart drop, knowing exactly what Ducky was referring too. They'd worked together so long, he could pick up the clues in Ducky's words with very little ease.

"What should I do?" Jethro asked, looking towards the stairs.

"He came to you because you were what he needs right now," Ducky replied. "Make sure he knows you're there for him, that you'll protect him, without emasculating him. He already feels weak, and he's trying to put on a strong front. Don't pressure him. Let him talk to you when he's ready."

Jethro nodded, and he knew he wasn't making it back to work that afternoon. There was no way he could when Tony was in so much turmoil.

"Thanks Ducky," Jethro said after a beat of silence.

"Call me if he needs anything," Ducky made him promise.

Jethro couldn't help but be happy with the doctor after the man had left. While he hadn't support he and Tony's relationship, insisting always that something needed to change, Jethro knew he could count on the doctor for help no matter what problem he was confronted with.

Pulling out his phone, he called to let Ziva and McGee he wouldn't be back that day before calling Vance. Tony didn't want him too, but there was no other choice, and they would figure out he'd made his way to D.C. soon enough. To get here so quickly, he would have had to have flown, and there were always records for tickets and credit card usage.

"What do you want Gibbs?" Vance said in way of greeting.

"I've just spoken with DiNozzo," Gibbs cut right to the chase.

He wouldn't tell him that Tony was at his house, and he wouldn't tell him what exactly was going on, but he'd do what he could to save Tony's job at NCIS and get him a stint of leave to heal his wounds.

"And?" Vance prompted.

"He's had a personal emergency. He wants to use his saved up vacation time," Jethro replied.

"If he comes in and talks to me, I'll consider it," Vance compromised.

"He can be there tomorrow morning," Jethro promised.

"9 o'clock," Vance confirmed.

They hung out without saying goodbye, and Jethro put his barely eaten sandwich in the fridge for later. He wasn't hungry now. Taking the stairs quietly, he peeked into the bedroom to see that Tony hadn't eaten anymore of his lunch either, but he wasn't going to be pushed too. He didn't need to be pushed into anything at that point.

"Hey," Tony greeted when he'd opened his eyes as saw him lurking in the doorway.

Jethro could see the misery in the younger man's eyes, and without saying a word, he rounded the bed, climbed on, and gently wrapped Tony in his arms. Tony moved into the embrace, and Jethro stroked his hair. They'd talk about Vance and the meeting later. Right now, he just wanted to hold him.

* * *

**A/N: **Any thoughts?

**Also**, you can now check me out on facebook under This Ren. I suggest you do :-)


	9. Chapter 9: The Sleepover with Abby

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS. Not even a little bit.

**A/N: **I made a mistake. I thought this was the chapter with the Vance meeting, but it's not. I guess that's what I get for stockpiling so many chapters...I forget what they're about *sigh*

**Chapter Nine**

**The Sleepover with Abby**

"Abby Scuito," her voice sounded tired and downcast, as far from possible as her usual upbeat personality as possible. "How may I help you?"

"It's Gibbs," Jethro replied, leaning against the living room wall as he listened for Tony to wake up upstairs. "I need you to do me a favor?"

"The good kind, or the bad kind?" Abby responded, her voice telling him that he'd peaked her curiosity.

"The personal kind," Jethro answered. "Come over after work."

"Ok," Abby said, and he hung up the phone without saying anything further.

In the two hours it took for Abby to arrive, he checked on Tony five times, ate the remainder of his sandwich, and unsuccessfully tried to take a nap. When she finally walked through the door with a pizza box in one hand, and her large purse in the other, he'd hugged her happily.

"What's going on?" Abby asked as she dropped the pizza on the kitchen counter beside her purse and turned around to face Jethro. "What do you need?"

"Tony's here," Jethro replied.

"What? Where? Is he okay?" Abby demanded, perking up instantly.

"I told you this morning he wasn't dead," Jethro told her, and she narrowed her eyes at him in anger for not having told her earlier that he was in the city. "Somebody beat the shit out of him, but he'll be fine."

"Oh no!" Abby cried, clapping her hands over her mouth.

"Ducky's been to see him," Jethro assured her. "He's going to be fine. He doesn't want Vance to know though."

"Why not?" Abby demanded.

"Doesn't matter. He doesn't want him to know and we're not going to tell him," Jethro replied. "He has a meeting to discuss leave time with Vance tomorrow. I need you to make his face look normal."

"What do you mean by 'make his face look normal'?" Abby questioned, scrunching up her brow in confusion and anxiety.

"There's some bruising," Jethro shrugged. "You can put make up on there or something, right?"

"I'll need to see him," Abby insisted. "I have to."

"I'm right here," Tony's voice drew both of their attention to the kitchen doorway.

"I thought you were upstairs?" Jethro asked, hurrying to his side, as Abby clapped her hands over her mouth again at seeig his mottled face.

"I came downstairs," Tony shrugged. "I heard Abby."

"Tony," Abby gushed, hurrying to him when her wits returned, and she threw her arms around him.

"Ow," Tony moaned in response and she let go of him quickly.

"I'm so sorry," she cried. "What happened to you?"

"I'm fine," was his response. "Is that pizza? I could go for some pizza."

Jethro had to refrain from helping Tony across the room. The younger man's movements were stiff and uncomfortable, but he made it to the counter and flipped the lid of the box open to see the contents within. He grinned as Jethro grabbed a plate and shoved it at him to keep mess to a minimum, and Tony happily took it and made his way back to the table, where Abby sat across from him.

"I've got a turtleneck to hide the marks on my neck," Tony announced after a bit of pizza, "but I can't put a bag over my head without Vance getting suspicious."

"I'll get some make up," Abby assured him. "We'll make you look as good as new."

And they did. Abby hurried off right after she'd finished her own pizza, and when she'd returned both Tony and Jethro were in the bedroom looking for an outfit for the next day. The black turtleneck that Tony had left in the closet hadn't been removed in the last few months, nor had a pair of dark blue jeans that would match. None of his suits were there, or his ties, but Tony wasn't worried about wearing Armani for the meeting. The casual look would work, and once Abby had applied the makeup, he wouldn't need to be worried.

She stayed the night, insisting she would sleep on the bedroom floor and be comfortable, but sometime in the middle of the night she'd managed to squeeze into bed with them, making a Tony sandwich with their hurt friend in the middle of her and Jethro. Jethro hadn't said anything when she'd pulled back the blanket and scooted into the bed. He'd been surprised she'd stayed on the floor as long as she had. She'd never stayed on the floor before.

* * *

They woke up early so Abby would have enough time to apply the make up before getting ready for work herself. She'd left her overnight bag from the trunk of her car in the guest bathroom, and she sat Tony on the toilet seat in the master bathroom to apply the makeup. He joked with her about being a cross dresser as she worked with the cover up, foundation, and powder while Jethro watched with a critical eye.

The final outcome was deemed satisfactory, and Tony hugged Abby as he sent both her and Jethro out of the bedroom so he could change. Abby went, but Jethro refused, insisting he needed to take a shower. Tony relented, and began to change only when he was sure Jethro was in the shower. The moment Jethro stepped out of the steaming cubicle, he had to refrain from opening the door to peek out and check on Tony, reminding himself that Tony wouldn't approve of the move, so he dressed quickly and hung up his towel on the rack before he pulled the door open.

Tony was sitting on the end of the bed, fully dressed and ready to go.

* * *

**A/N: **I can see Abby crawling into bed with them pretty easily. If you can't...well, we'll agree to disagree on that... The next chapter is the one with the meeting with Vance.

Now don't forget to go check out my facebook page!: This Ren

**Any Thoughts?**


	10. Chapter 10: The Excuse

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS. Not even a little bit.

**A/N: **It's that thing...that I said was going to happen in this chapter! I do hope it does not disappoint.

**Chapter Ten**

**The Excuse**

Tony was nervous as they stepped off the elevator and made their way to Vance's office. He tried to make his movements look natural, despite the pain it caused his aching body. He needed Vance to believe that he was fine. He needed him to call off the investigation in Washington and give him the time off that he wanted. If he showed weakness or pain, he knew it wasn't going to happen. Sure, he could get medical, but that would only be more of a hassle. He'd have to see a doctor, get a physical, fill out a lot of paperwork and have to cooperate with the investigation into what had happened. He didn't want that. He just wanted the time off to heal up.

"Director Vance is expecting you," the receptionist said when they approached her desk. "Go on in."

Tony watched Jethro open the door, took a deep breath, and then followed him into the office. Vance looked up at them as they approached his desk, and Tony stood in front of him and tried to look like he wasn't slowly being tortured. Jethro stood beside him, offering support.

"Agent DiNozzo," Director Vance spoke, looking up at them. "You gave your co-workers in the Northwest office quite the scare yesterday. They thought you'd been abducted."

"I regret not making my intentions clear," Tony responded, sliding his mask onto his face with little difficulty- with the familiar work environment pressing around him, it was easy to pretend all was well. "I was a mess the other night. My father was admitted into the hospital, and I got the call and freaked out little bit. He's the only family I have, and I went a little crazy when I heard he was in such poor shape. I should have called A.D. Walther, but it was late and I was upset. I meant to call yesterday morning, but I was at the hospital all day."

It was a lie, but Tony was a good liar, and Vance didn't know him and his familial situation enough to be able to call him on it. He felt a bit guilty for lying, sure, but that wasn't his top concern at the moment.

Vance evaluated him for a moment as he tapped his long fingertips onto the desk in front of him.

"And now you want to use your vacation time to take some time off?" Vance finally asked.

"Yes. I need to be with my father right now. I'm all he has, and he needs somebody to look after him. I have some comp time I could use as well. I've filled out the paperwork." Jethro handed over the papers he'd carried into the office for Tony, and Vance took them.

A moment of reviewing them, and Tony knew Vance couldn't say that he didn't have the time to take off. At least a month of comp time, that was for sure, and another for vacation. Eight weeks was enough for his wounds to heal. Eight weeks, he'd decided was the perfect amount of time to come up with some kind of plan.

Eventually Vance agreed to let him take the time off with a written reprimand in his file for failing to contact his senior agent before disappearing. Tony had taken the reprimand, knowing he could have been fired on the spot, and followed Jethro out of the office. They parted ways in the lobby, Jethro putting him in a cab bound for home with a wad of cash to pay for it and order take out for lunch. Tony had wanted to kiss him, but knew it was a very bad idea. There were far too many people around to see, and he'd already escaped being fired that day, so he got in the cab and waved as they drove away.

* * *

**A/N: **It's short, I know (aren't they all?), and there was no blow out with Vance as was expected, but I will say that this is not the last meeting Tony will have with the Director, and that meeting may not go as smoothly as this one.

**As always_, _**go check out my facebook page. Just look up This Ren.

**And, **don't forget to review! Let me know your thoughts!


	11. Chapter 11: The Talk

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS. Not even a little bit.

**A/N: **I'd just like to take a moment to let everybody who reviewed know that I appreciate it. I was not receiving review alerts yesterday, and it made it exceedingly difficult to respond to my reviewers (I can respond from my phone when they come to my e-mail, but my phone really hates logging into FF . net ). If I didn't respond to yours, I'm sorry, and hopefully it will not be a problem today.

**Chapter Eleven**

**The Sex Talk**

1 Month Later:

"That's not what I said," Jethro protested as he unlocked the front door and moved into the house.

"Those were your exact words," Tony snorted pausing only momentarily at the doorway to look around before entering the house and shrugging out of his jacket.

"Well, it's not what I meant," Jethro replied as he took the leather and hung it up on the coat rack with his own.

Tony laughed as he kicked off his shoes and headed into the living room. They'd been getting dinner, as Jethro insisted he needed to leave the house at some point, and on the way home Jethro had made a comment about the previous nights movie marathon they'd had with Abby in the upstairs bedroom. Of course Tony knew Jethro hadn't meant anything sexual by the comment about Abby sleeping in bed with them, but he'd had teased him with it anyway.

Jethro was right behind him, and the moment his butt hit the couch cushion, he was joined by Jethro, who leaned over to speak directly in his ear.

"The only sex I'm interested in having is with you," Jethro said before placing a soft kiss behind Tony's ear before leaning back into the couch.

Tony just smiled at him before grabbing the remote control off the coffee table and turning the television on. It had been easy falling into their old routine. Physically healed for the most part, their relationship wasn't as straining. Jethro wasn't looking at him like he could break with barely a touch. The mental damage, however, was not healed. Despite the fact that they both acknowledged the fact that they were firmly back together, they didn't have sex, they barely kissed, and Tony always made the first move when initiating physical contact, which wasn't very often. He barely left the house, usually being forced by Jethro when they did go out. They didn't invite guests over, aside from Abby, but she wouldn't have stayed away anyway.

"You okay?" Jethro asked half an hour later, and Tony glanced over at him.

"Fine, why?" Tony responded.

"You look…odd," Jethro replied, strumming his fingers against his thigh.

"I was just thinking," Tony shrugged turning back to the television.

"About what?" Jethro wondered.

"You," Tony said simply.

Jethro waited for him to continue, letting the minutes slip by as Tony looked at the television instead of at him.

"I don't want to have sex," Tony finally said without turning to look at his partner.

"We don't have to," Jethro assured him.

"I don't think I'll ever want to have sex again," Tony admitted, refusing to turn.

"Then I guess we'll never have sex again," Jethro shrugged.

Tony laughed.

"What? It's not like we're together just for sex," Jethro smiled. "Contrary to popular belief, I actually like your personality too."

"Nobody would believe you if you told them," Tony shook his head good naturedly.

"That's why I won't tell them. I can't have people thinking I'm soft." Jethro feigned horror at the words.

"That would be a nightmare," Tony agreed.

He gravitated closer to his partner after that, and cuddled against his chest as Jethro draped his arm down his torso. They stayed that way for a while, watching television and enjoying their company. Tony listened to Jethro's strong heartbeat, feeling comfortable and relaxed. Jethro was his again, and Jethro loved him, and Jethro would never hurt him. It was the way it should have been. It was the way it was before he'd gotten the stupid idea to go off to Washington.

"Bed," Jethro announced some time later, taking the remote from where it had fallen between them and shutting off the television he'd brought down from the bedroom four weeks earlier.

"Sheesh, I didn't realize I had a bedtime," Tony sighed as he stood up from the couch.

"Oh hush," Jethro replied.

They may not have had sex, or done anything sexual at all, but they lay in bed together, arms wrapped around each other until they fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: **It's short, but I like this chapter. It lets you in a little more on Tony's mental state.

**Also, **don't forget to look up This Ren on facebook!

**Any Thoughts?**


	12. Chapter 12: The Second Phone Call

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS. Not even a little bit.

**A/N: **I don't really have anything to say in this author's note...*shrug*

**Chapter Twelve**

**The Phone Call**

Tony stood on the back porch the following afternoon with a cup of tea in his hand. He always felt uneasy when Jethro wasn't home, something in him seizing up and making him panic at every sound in the neighborhood, but he wouldn't tell anybody this, least of all his partner. Nobody needed to know that it terrified him to be alone. Nobody needed to know that he couldn't look at himself in the mirror either, feeling dirty and disgusting. Nobody needed to know anything that went through his head, and he was grateful that Jethro didn't try to get him to talk about it. He needed Jethro like he needed air to breath.

He was trying to relax as he stood on the back porch. He was trying to will away the evils that always tried to creep into his mind. He didn't need to think about what had happened. He didn't need to imagine rough hands tearing at his clothes and bruising his skin. He flinched as the memories refused to leave.

The ringing of his phone managed to snap him out of his thoughts, but their ghosts haunted him as he pulled the device from his pocket and looked down at the caller ID. He'd expected it to be Jethro, or Abby, or one of the few friends he'd made in Washington, or even one of his frat brothers, but the number was blocked.

"DiNozzo," he said into the phone when he'd placed it to his ear.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo?" The voice chilled him to the bone, and Tony closed the phone abruptly without a response.

His hands were shaking so badly, the mug fell out of his grasp and shattered on the porch steps. He needed to calm down. He needed to relax. Nobody knew where he was. Only Jethro, Ducky and Abby knew he was staying there. Not even Vance knew, and Tony had sworn both of his favorite people not to say a word anybody, and Ducky had more than happily offered his silence in exchange for a biweekly visit to check in on him. He wasn't exactly hiding, but he wasn't out in the open either.

He was on the verge of a mental breakdown when a voice startled him so badly he jumped about a foot in the air.

"You okay?" Jethro asked, approaching the younger man, but keeping his hands to himself. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," Tony answered, letting out a shaky breath and running a hand through his hair. "I dropped my mug. I'll clean it up."

"It's fine," Jethro told him. "Go on inside, settle down. I'll clean this up. Don't worry about it."

He was torn about what to do, but Jethro was already collecting the broken glass, so he turned and went back in the house. He turned his phone off and set it on the kitchen counter. He wasn't expecting any calls, and he had none to make. He didn't want to talk to anybody. He watched Jethro through the kitchen window for another second before he went in the living room, sat on the couch, turned on the tv, and stared at it, trying to dispel his shakes and fear.

"I'm going to order Chinese for dinner," Jethro announced when he returned from the back porch, already having disposed of the broken mug. "That sound good to you?"

Tony only nodded.

Their night was silent. Tony said only a few words when Jethro asked questions about his day and what was bothering him, and then he'd gone to bed and curled into a ball beneath the comforter while Jethro worked on his boat. It wasn't an unusual routine, but it felt wrong. He felt isolated and alone, even when Jethro returned from the basement at midnight and climbed into bed. They didn't touch, and Tony tried unsuccessfully to think of things that wouldn't traumatize him further.

* * *

**A/N: **It was short, but it marks a dramatic change in Tony's behavior, and thus, is very important.

**Don't forget** to review and check out This Ren on Facebook!

**Any Thoughts?**


	13. Chapter 13: The Movie Night

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS. Not even a little bit.

**A/N:** Here's another chapter for 2 reasons: 1) The last chapter was really, really short, and so is this one, so they compliment each other, and 2) I'm very excited because I'm working on a very exciting part that I want to share with you sooner!

**Chapter Thirteen**

**The Movie Night**

"Abby's coming over tonight," Jethro called to tell Tony the next afternoon.

He'd been worried about his partner all day, not liking the younger man's nervousness and anxiety the previous afternoon. Whatever he'd walked in on had not been good, and he wished he'd arrived home a few moments earlier to have prevented it. Whatever had happened, Tony was freaking out over it. Jethro had left him in bed that morning, though he could tell that the younger man wasn't sleeping. Tony hadn't said anything when he'd left, but Jethro had offered him his love and a wish to have a good day anyway. It was tearing him apart that he couldn't be at home to take care of him, like he so desperately wanted to be.

"Why?" Tony asked, and Jethro didn't like the sound of his voice.

"Movie night," Jethro answered. "She got that new movie the two of you were talking about. I'll move the television upstairs so we can relax on the bed. Do you want anything special for dinner?"

"No," Tony answered unenthusiastically.

"I'll stop at the grocery store and pick up a chicken and some bread," Jethro suggested. "I'll pick up some popcorn too."

"Ok," Tony replied.

"I love you," Jethro tried, getting frustrated at the lack of a response he was getting.

"Love you too," Tony said back, and then the phone went dead in Jethro's hand.

With a disgruntled groan, he snapped his phone shut and left the elevator. Perhaps Tony would feel better after the movie night. They always seemed to cheer him up when he was down.

Arriving home with dinner a few hours later, Jethro found Tony sitting on the living room couch watching a football game. The younger man didn't say anything as he walked into the kitchen and deposited their dinner on the counter. He fixed them both plates, giving Tony the leg he knew he loved, and headed into the living room. Tony took his plate with a whispered "thanks" and went back to watching TV as he ate his meal.

Abby arrived not long after the dishes were done and the leftovers shoved in the fridge, and Jethro saw Tony's mask slide on as she greeted him in all of her optimistic whirlwind of exuberance. It was like a light switch had been flipped, and Tony was back to the jokester he'd always been before. He helped move the television up the narrow staircase and into the bedroom while Abby made the popcorn, and then they piled on the bed to watch the new movie.

There was never any kind of arrangement to their movie nights. They laid in no particular order, watched several movies, and ate more popcorn than any of them really would enjoy. It was no different that night, though Jethro was acutely aware of Tony's behavior. He allowed Abby to hang all over him, allowed her to force him into the middle of their pile, and allowed her to babble incessantly about every part of the movie with him. It was no different than he usually was with Abby. He laid his head against Jethro's shoulder, and let him slip his arm around his waist to hold him close.

They all fell asleep that way, in their pile of bodies all smashed together, and the television still on, but sometime around one o'clock movement woke Jethro up. He quietly watched an oblivious Tony extricate himself from their mob, and assumed he was taking a bathroom break. Instead, however, Tony laid across the end of the bed, his head near Abby's feet, and his legs half hanging off the edge.

"What are you doing?" Jethro asked softly so as to not disturb the sleeping Abby next to him.

"I'm hot," Tony answered, and Jethro let it go even though he could see the gooseflesh popping up on his partners skin from the cold air around them.

* * *

**A/N:** So there you go. A second short chapter for the day. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think!

**And, **don't forget to check out This Ren on Facebook!


	14. Chapter 14: The Hate

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **This chapter is much longer than the others. I do hope that you will enjoy it.

**Chapter 14**

**The Hate**

Tony was silent for a week, barely speaking except for when Abby or Ducky was over to visit with him. It freaked Jethro out, but there was nothing he could do to change it. Tony distanced himself from him, barely said more than a word at a time, and barely slept. Getting him to leave the house was impossible. He adamantly refused to go out both the front and back doors, spending most of his time in the living room, staring at the television, though Jethro could easily tell that he was not actually watching it.

While it freaked him out, it was also starting to piss him off. Tony refused to tell him what had happened to cause his withdrawal. He'd attempted to not come to bed one night, but Jethro had put his foot down and insisted he take himself up to bed. Tony had gone to bed sulkily, and Jethro had felt guilty. He wasn't Tony's father. He was his partner.

He couldn't help but feel liked he'd been fair to Tony. The younger man had been through a very traumatic experience, and Jethro had done for him what he felt was best- he'd been there for him. As much as he wanted to rip whoever had hurt his partner limb from limb, he didn't want to push Tony to talk about it. He knew Tony enough to know that pushing him to talk would only push him out the door. Communication had never been one of Tony's strong points, especially when he was hurting.

Now, however, he wanted to grab Tony by the shoulders and shake the answers out of him. He wanted to force the younger man to tell him what had happened in Washington, who had done it to him, and why, when things had been going so well, he'd completely shut down. Gibbs felt like he'd been patient enough, and perhaps he could have held out a little longer if Tony hadn't relapsed into this empty shell of a person. It was the fakeness of Tony's behavior, and the games that was pissing Gibbs off the most.

He hated going to work, fearing that when he got home, Tony wouldn't be there. He called to check in several times, but only got through when he called the house phone. Tony had stopped answering is cell phone. He'd even stopped turning it on. Gibbs didn't press this latest issue only because Tony refused to leave the house, and he always answered the house phone. It wasn't until he'd really gotten to thinking about this phone issue that he put a few pieces of the puzzle together, and he headed downstairs to speak with Abby about what could be done about it.

NCIS

Tony knew he was pissing Jethro off. He knew the other man was getting impatient. He knew he wasn't being the easiest person in the world. He knew all of these things, but he couldn't make himself change his behavior. Every morning when Jethro said goodbye, he wanted to beg him to stay home, but he couldn't reveal his weakness. Every time Jethro's eyes asked what had happened, Tony wanted to get it off his chest, but he couldn't admit that he'd been too weak to keep himself safe. Every time Jethro wondered why he'd suddenly changed so much, Tony wanted to tell him about the phone call, but he couldn't admit to the fright.

He was not a weak person. He was strong, and he could take care of himself, and he didn't need protection- but he wanted it. He just couldn't ask for it. His pride got in the way.

How was it that just one thing, spoken over a phone, could get to him so much? He didn't know if they knew where he was. He didn't know if they were even after him. He didn't know anything other than the fact that they were capable of hurting him, and that was exactly what they'd been able to do before, and what they would be able to do again. Did the phone call mean that they were waiting for him to return to Washington? Or did it mean that they knew he was in D.C. and could get him very easily? Perhaps they were just trying to fuck with him- to remind him of what they could do to him if they so desired.

He hated that they terrified him. He hated that he couldn't keep his thoughts from going back to that point in time when he'd wanted nothing more than to die. He hated that every time he felt like things were getting better, something happened to reminded him of just what had happened. He hated that every time Abby threw her arms around him in a loving hug, he felt a completely different pair of arms holding him down. He hated how just the thought of being intimate with the man he loved with all of his heart made him want to vomit as he felt the coldness of that hard glass bottle penetrating him. He hated how the faintest of whispers could put him on edge- return him to the living room of his apartment in Washington where he'd been outnumbered and unable to stop what he knew was going to happen.

Coming home to Jethro had been all he'd wanted to do as he lay on the living room floor after they'd left that night. He'd picked himself up, called a cab and was gone with only his wallet and phone, intent upon getting home as quickly as he possibly could. The flight had been long and uncomfortable, but he'd felt okay. They weren't on the plane, and that feeling had kept with him as he'd made his way to his destination and back into Jethro's arms. He was safe from them as long as he wasn't in Washington. That feeling had shattered with that one phone call, however. It brought them from Washington to D.C. and his feeling of safety and security had evaporated. They were still a threat to him, even thousands of miles away from the place of his attack.

NCIS

"What can I do for you, Gibbs?" Abby was her usual perky self, fluttering about her lab in her knee high platform boots that made him cringe. "Fingerprints? Ballistics? DNA?"

"Phone records," was his response, dropping down to sit in the stool beside her computer.

"Doesn't McGee usually pull phone records?" Abby wondered, quirking an eyebrow as she turned away from Major Mass. Spec. to observe him.

He just looked back at her and she finally relented and approached her computer to do the search with a sigh.

"What number?" Abby wondered, setting her fingers on her keyboard.

"Tony's," Jethro answered.

Abby swiveled her head around so sharply that Jethro was almost surprised when it didn't fly off. Her eyes were wide with concern, but he couldn't bring himself to reassure her. It wasn't as if he was feeling particularly good about this himself.

"Is Tony okay?" Abby demanded. "Has something happened to him? You're supposed to be making sure he's okay!"

"Check last week. Monday, afternoon," Jethro instructed her, motioning back towards the computer.

Abby was on it without asking anymore questions. Jethro knew that she'd give him the information he needed. If it involved Tony, and it was enough to make him worried, Abby would do whatever it took to help him.

"Monday afternoon he made two calls, and received three calls," Abby read from the computer screen only a few seconds later. "He called his father, and somebody in Washington- his own line at the Northwest NCIS office. He got two calls from you, one from your cell, and another your office phone."

"And the last call?" Jethro pressed, not needing to be told that he'd called Tony- he already knew that.

"I don't know who made it," Abby shook her head, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "The number is registered to a Mr. Ronald McDonald, and was purchased from a small provider in Washingon two weeks ago. It's a fake name."

"Ya think?" Jethro sighed. "Find me who that number belongs to Abby."

"On it," Abby promised.

* * *

**A/N: **So...any thoughts?


	15. Chapter 15: The Promise

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**Chapter 15**

**The Promise**

With Abby on the case, Jethro left the office early that afternoon. Ziva and McGee had looked at him like he was crazy when he announced that he was leaving, but he'd ignored their inquisitive eyes and boarded the elevator without a glance back. He wanted to go home. He needed to go home. His gut told him that he needed to be at home with Tony.

His mind was preoccupied the entire drive home, and when he pulled up in front of the house, he had to remind himself that answers were coming. Tony might not want to talk about what was going on, but Abby was going to get the information he'd asked of her, and he was going to get to the bottom of this, whether Tony would talk to him or not.

Tony was sitting on the couch when Jethro arrived, and looked up sharply when the door opened.

"You're early," Tony said after a few seconds, their eyes locked and neither moving.

"I wanted to come home," Jethro admitted.

"Did something happen?" There was a strange edge to Tony's voice that Jethro didn't care for.

"No," Jethro shook his head. "I just wanted to come home."

When Tony eventually looked away, back towards the blank screen of the television, Jethro toed his shoes off and hung up his jacket.

"Are you okay?" Jethro wondered as he sat on the couch not far from his partner.

"I'm fine. I was reading," Tony shrugged, and Jethro could tell that he was lying. Whatever Tony had been doing, he hadn't been reading.

"There's no book," Jethro pointed out.

Tony was silent for a moment before he turned his body on the couch to face Jethro, his eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to get at something?"

"No," Jethro said. "But I don't see why you need to lie to me."

"Would you rather I tell you that I was sitting here staring at the wall?" Tony demanded. "Would that make you feel better?"

"Stop," Jethro sighed.

"No," Tony shook his head.

There were dark circles beneath the younger man's eyes, and his skin was pale. He'd lost weight, and the look in his eyes told Jethro that today was the day that he'd been waiting for. He was silent as Tony began to speak, his voice quivering and his body shaking as he stood up from the couch.

"I'm not weak! I'm not stupid," Tony cried. "I don't need you to come home early from work to sit here with me. I can take care of myself. I don't need you."

Jethro was ready for the anger. He could handle the anger. What he wasn't prepared for were the tears, and Tony falling back onto the couch, burying his head in Jethro's lap and fisting his hands into his shirt while he sobbed. His whole body shook as he gasped for breath, and Jethro set a hand against the tense muscles of his shoulders. He' do whatever Tony needed him to do, no matter how unaccustomed to it he was.

"I don't think you're weak," Jethro assured him when the sobs had stopped, but Tony continued to cling to him. "I don't think you can't take care of yourself. I love you, and I wanted to be home with you. That's it." He kept his voice soft and reassuring.

"I don't see how," Tony moaned.

"I've always loved you," Jethro said, furrowing his brow. "That's not going to change."

"I don't feel good," Tony admitted, rubbing his face against the soft fabric of Jethro's polo. "I don't feel…right."

"It'll be okay," Jethro promised, pulling at Tony to sit him up before wrapping his arms around his torso.

"I don't feel safe," Tony refused the comfort, shaking his head.

"You are safe," Jethro assured him. "I'll never let anybody hurt you."

* * *

**Any Thoughts?**


	16. Chapter 16: The Bastard

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **Another short chapter, because this morning's chapter was so short.

**Chapter 16**

**The Bastard**

Tony sat outside Vance's office with anxiety churning in his gut. He had a week of leave left before he had to return to work in the Northwest Office, and the thought of going back was making him physically ill. Jethro had assured him that morning, after he'd told him of the meeting he'd set up with the Director, that he would support whatever decision he made on what to do next. He'd been thinking about it for months, since his first meeting with Vance, but he'd only come to a conclusion the previous night, as he lay in Jethro's arms thinking about the future.

The phone rang and the receptionist answered it, speaking in a soft voice for only a moment before hanging it up and telling him that the Director was ready to see him. Tony stood up and straightened out his suit jacket. It was new and stiff with so much starch that it was uncomfortable. Not for the first time he wished Jethro was with him instead of at a crime scene.

"Agent DiNozzo," Vance greeted when Tony was standing in front of his desk feeling awkward. "You wanted to see me?"

"I'd like to be transferred back to D.C.," Tony jumped right to it, locking his hands behind his back.

"I don't have any team leader positions available in D.C.," Vance said.

"I don't need to be team leader. I'll go back to working with Gibbs," Tony suggested. "He has an open position on his team."

"You spoke with him about it?" Vance asked, a sharp edge to his voice.

"No, sir," Tony replied. "I just happen to know that their last new hire decided to go back to the FBI last week. I'd be happy to take the empty position."

"What about your team? Agent Larkin and Agent Morris are expecting you to return to the Northwest Office next week," Vance pointed out.

"Agent Larkin is more than capable of running the team," Tony shrugged. It wasn't exactly a lie. Larkin was a good agent. He'd be able to manage as team leader.

"No," Vance refused.

"Sir," Tony tried. "My father-"

"Is perfectly fine," Vance said. "According to Agent Remers, your father had no idea he was in the hospital nearly two months ago."

"You're investigating me?" Tony demanded.

"You lied to me," Vance returned, just as angrily. "It's completely within my rights as the Director of this agency to verify my agents requests for leave."

Tony gritted his teeth in an effort to quail the anger raging through his veins. The last thing he needed to do was say something to piss off Vance any more than he already was.

"You're lucky you still have a job," Vance snapped. "And as for your request to transfer, it's denied. If you don't show up for work at the Northwest office next Monday morning, I'll make sure you can't get a job scrubbing toilets."

"Sir," Tony tried.

"We're done, DiNozzo," Vance stopped him. "I don't want to hear whatever excuse you've drummed up. This conversation is over. Enjoy the rest of your leave time."

"I really must insist-" Tony attempted again, but Vance ignored him, opening a file on his desk and focusing on it instead.

Tony left the office wishing he could smash his fist into Vance's face. That would certainly make him feel better.

* * *

**A/N: **I ultimately decided that this was more realistic than Tony going all crazy on the Director and getting himself fired. As obnoxious as Tony can be sometimes, he does have common sense.

**Any Thoughts?**


	17. Chapter 17: The Alcohol

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS. Not even just a tiny little bit.

**A/N: **A longer chapter. Not long by any standards, but longer than some others...and you're not going to like the end.

**Chapter 17**

**The Alcohol**

It became clear the moment Jethro got home that evening that not all was right in the world. Tony was stomping around upstairs, and loud thumps could be heard every few moments, as if something very heavy was being smashed against the floor. Confused, he didn't bother taking off his shoes or his coat before he was hurrying up the stairs to see what was going on. He knew that Tony'd spoken with Vance that morning, and while he hadn't called him that day, his time taken up by the new case he was working, he'd wondered what had been the outcome.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jethro demanded when he located Tony in the bedroom tossing shoes out of the closet at the far wall, which explained the thuds he'd heard from downstairs.

"I'm packing. What does it look like I'm doing?" Tony replied back, his voice laced with anger.

Packing wasn't what Jethro would have guessed. The shoes, for one, belonged to him, and while there was a large pile of clothes on the bed, they weren't folded, or organized, and there was no suitcase in sight.

"Why are you packing?" Jethro asked instead of pointing this out.

"Because I have to be back at work in a week," Tony snapped.

Jethro just stared at him, but no matter how intimidating his glare could be at times, Tony wasn't paying him enough attention to care.

"I hate him," Tony moaned, tossing another shoe and just barely missing Jethro's head.

"Who?" Jethro wondered.

"Vance," Tony answered. "He said I was lucky I still had a job. He had me fucking investigated!"

It became very clear that Tony had been drinking, and not just because Jethro caught sight of the nearly empty bottle of bourbon on the dresser at that moment. His movements were uncoordinated, and his words were slurring together.

"Would you just calm down for a second?" Jethro ordered, grabbing the next shoe that came flying at his head, and tossing it onto the floor. "You're not making any sense."

"There's nothing to talk about," Tony responded. "I have to pack so I can go back to stupid fucking Washington and deal with stupid fucking Agent Morris."

Jethro was not surprised that this was how Tony was dealing with going back to Washington. They had discussed what was going to happen when Tony's leave ended, and every time Washington was mentioned, Tony had changed the subject. He hadn't known what Tony was planning, but clearly, it had not been to return to the West coast.

"I fucking hate him!" Tony thundered as he reached for the bottle of bourbon.

Jethro managed to grab it before Tony could take it, however, and closed the cap before tossing it onto the bed with the clothes, most of which were not Tony's.

"Give it back!" Tony snapped, standing up, but grabbing onto the closet door to keep himself from falling.

"You've had enough," Jethro shook his head, taking the few steps to Tony's side.

"I have not!" Tony objected, struggling as Jethro put his arms around his torso and directed him towards the bedroom door.

Talking to a drunk Tony was like talking to a brick wall. Talking to an angry, drunk Tony was like talking to several brick walls all lined up together. There was really no point in attempting it. If he was going to get anything at all out of his partner, Tony needed to have a clear head on his shoulders.

NCIS

"I'm sorry about last night," Tony's voice cut across the morning silence, jerking Jethro out of his light doze at the kitchen table.

"Don't apologize, it's a sign of weakness," Jethro grunted, rubbing at his face and looking around for the time.

Getting Tony downstairs the night before had been harder than pretty much anything he'd ever done before. The man had kicked and screamed and howled and yelled and threatened him repeatedly all the way down the staircase and into the living room, where he'd been deposited onto the couch. Leaving him in the bedroom probably would have been a lot easier, but Jethro probably would have had to replace his entire wardrobe, and patch a few holes in the wall when morning came.

"I'm a weak person," Tony sighed, falling into the chair across the table and tracing his finger along the grains in the wood.

"No, you're not," Jethro said. "You're just not at your best right now. Things will get better."

"No they won't. In a few days I'll be back in Washington and nothing will get better," Tony shook his head.

Jethro got up from the table and put a pot of coffee on before he sat in the chair to Tony's right, turned it to face him, and leaned forward. He'd held his tongue since Tony had arrived, but he couldn't do it anymore. He needed answers, and he was going to get them.

"Talk to me, Tony," Jethro pleaded, not daring to touch him, knowing it would not be welcome.

"There's nothing to talk about," Tony refused.

"That's bullshit and you know it," Jethro protested softly.

He could see Tony go tense, and he sighed. He didn't want Tony to feel defensive, and clearly he'd said the wrong thing.

"Look, Tony," Jethro tried again. "I can't help you, if you don't talk to me. I know you don't think you need help, but if that were true, you wouldn't have come back. You know I won't hurt you. You trust me. Trust me with this."

There was silence for a long moment, but Jethro didn't break it with another attempt at getting Tony to open up about what had happened. Tony had always been a defensive person, hiding who he was behind a mask that other people could easily fall for. Jethro wasn't falling for it, and Tony knew he never would. They'd been together for too long for Tony to think otherwise.

"I thought that leaving was the right thing to do," Tony ended his silence suddenly, folding his hands in his lap and keeping his eyes glued on the table in front of him. "There were so many problems, and nothing was ever going right, and we were fighting constantly. I thought that leaving would make me feel better, but it didn't. I got to Washington and all I wanted to do was come home.

"I couldn't come home though. I'd made a choice and I was stuck with it. I tried to move on, to stop dwelling on the past, but I couldn't. I went on a few dates, but they didn't lead anywhere, and I really hadn't wanted them too. Work was a nightmare. Morris is such stupid little twit, and I kept going to Walther about her, but he wouldn't do a damn thing.

"When Abby came to visit this summer, I pretended everything was going great. It was the only time I actually liked being there- not that Washington in general isn't nice. It was beautiful- a little rainy, but beautiful. Very green. Most of the people were nice. Then Abby left and I wasn't happy anymore. I was looking forward to vacation so much. I was looking forward to getting out of there for a little while- to coming home." It was the most Tony had said about his time in Washington since he'd arrived, having avoided the entire subject for weeks.

Jethro wanted to touch him. He wanted to reach over and take Tony's hand, or stroke his cheek, or hug him- he just wanted to touch him in some way to let him know that he was there for him, but he knew it wouldn't be wanted.

"My vacation got ruined," Tony muttered bitterly after a deep breath. "I'd been looking forward to it so much, and it never happened."

"You still got to come home, though," Jethro pointed out.

For the first time in a week, Tony smiled softly- a real smile.

"I don't want to go back, Jethro." The smile was gone, and Tony's eyes had turned to him, full of sadness and longing. "I really don't want to go back. They're just going to come after me again. They're not going to let me go."

"Who?" Jethro wondered. "Who did this to you? Who's hurt you?"

* * *

**A/N: **Let me first point out that I don't hate Washington State, or the Pacific Northwest in anyway. I love it. Tony's just angry and drunk. So please, don't take that the wrong way.

Aside from wanting to kill me because of the ending, do you have anything thoughts?


	18. Chapter 18: The Apartment

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS

**A/N: **Life has been hectic lately. My Grandmother had a stroke and has been in the hospital, but now that she's home, everything is settling down again. I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out. Between working like crazy and focusing on family every free moment I've had, I haven't had a chance to sleep, let alone write. If this chapter falls a little flat, blame it on the lack of sleep.

**Chapter 18**

**The Apartment**

His apartment did nothing to make Tony feel better. Sitting in the living room, surrounded by his destroyed belongings, he wanted to leave. He wanted to walk out the door, lock it, and never come back. That wasn't an option though. While he was being allowed out of his lease, he still needed to fix this place up.

He reserved a room in a hotel not far from the NCIS branch office. He still had a few days before he was expected back at work, but he had a few things to take care of before then- like clean up his apartment.

Getting back to Washington, opening the front door he'd locked two months before, Tony was hit with a wave of emotions. He wanted to be sick as he thought about what had happened to him just a few feet away. The damage was worse than he remembered, as well. There were glass and wood splinters everywhere, a number of his movies had been crushed, and his television was lying on its side on the floor with a cracked screen. He'd put up a good fight that night- now if only it had been enough.

His hands shook as he pushed his broken belongings into trash bags. His whole body shook as he tried to control his emotions. He didn't want to be there.

When the door knob rattled, Tony jumped. The first thing he'd done upon arriving was lock the apartment door. He didn't need visitors. The hard pounding on the door startled him, and he stood up from the floor and approached it cautiously. Looking through the peep hole, he let out the breath he'd been holding before he unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"You startled me," Tony admitted as Jethro entered the apartment, closing the door behind himself.

"I didn't mean to," Jethro said. "I picked up a few things to clean up, and we can pick up the rental truck first thing tomorrow morning to get everything out of here."

"Thanks." He knew without a doubt that he wouldn't have been able to walk through that door if Jethro hadn't been with him.

He hadn't needed to ask Jethro to return to Washington with him. After their talk in the kitchen, Jethro had sent him into the living room to relax, and that evening over dinner had announced that they would be leaving for Washington on Friday morning. He'd been shocked at first, but after thinking about it, he realized he shouldn't have been. After everything that had happened, Jethro wouldn't allow him back to Washington on his own.

It made him feel better that Jethro was with him. It gave him a strength that he thought he'd lost along with the attack. They checked into the hotel, and stayed the night before setting out of the apartment on Saturday morning. Jethro had unlocked the front door for him after he dropped the keys, and walked through the entire house to make sure they were alone while Tony locked the door and observed his destroyed belongings in the living room.

"We'll clean it up," Jethro had said of the mess after assuring him that the apartment was deserted. "And we'll pack everything up and put it in a storage unit. We can figure out what to do with it later."

Tony wasn't going to keep anything. Not a single towel. He'd told Jethro that when the storage unit had been paid for, but his partner had simply said they could keep it in the storage locker until they could do something else with it. Tony was completely happy to let Jethro take care of everything, even when he had to leave the apartment to pick up cleaning supplies. He had set about trying to organize and discard things on his own.

He was more than relieved that his partner was back from the store. It was way too nerve-wracking being there by himself. He needed Jethro's strength to get through this. He'd jumped every time he'd heard a car go by outside, and his cell phone had never been too far away.

NCIS

Cleaning and packing up his apartment hadn't really been that difficult. He was a pretty tidy person, and he hadn't crammed the space with a ton of nothing. Having Jethro there to help only sped up the process- after all, when did Jethro Gibbs ever waste time getting the job done? By the time they left for the hotel Saturday night, aside from the boxes piled in the living room awaiting the truck, the apartment was ready to be returned to the landlord.

The hotel they had checked into the night before was nothing special, but it was comfortable. The queen sized bed certainly wasn't the bed Tony wanted to be sleeping in, but it worked, and the television across from it played enough channels to guarantee something good to watch.

Upon returned from the apartment, the first thing Tony did was shower. He turned the water up as hot as he could stand it and stood beneath the spray for nearly half an hour in an attempt to get the dirty feeling on his skin to go away. He only got out when Jethro started banging on the door asking if he'd drowned.

"Do you think I'm overreacting?" Tony wondered as he sat on the end of the bed after leaving the steam filled bathroom.

"No," Jethro answered from where he was leaning against the headboard.

"I feel like I'm overreacting," Tony admitted, twisting his hands in his lap and staring at the floor.

"You have every right to have feelings, Tony," Jethro assured him, sitting up and joining him at the end of the bed. "Those bastards hurt you. I'd be worried if you were feeling fine."

"I can't…I can't go back to work," Tony whispered, biting his lip as he let Jethro slip an arm around his shoulders and pull him close. "I can't go back there."

"You have to," Jethro sighed. "But just for a little while. I'll be there with you."

"Vance is going to be pissed," Tony muttered.

"Let him be pissed," Gibbs scoffed.

NCIS

"Take this," Jethro said, shoving a box into Tony's arms before picking up another to carry downstairs.

"These are the last ones, right?" Tony asked, looking around the empty space.

"Yep," Gibbs confirmed. "Let's get them downstairs so we can hand those keys in. Come on."

Tony looked around the space one last time, relief filling him. The apartment was done. He wouldn't have to go back there again. He wouldn't have to look at that spot on the floor where he'd been held down. He wouldn't have to look at that door that had been broken in to admit the bastards who had hurt him. It was over.

"Are you coming?" Jethro called from the hallway.

Tony hurried after him, pulling the door closed behind him. Jethro was already standing at the elevator and Tony joined him there to wait for the car.

"We'll toss this stuff in the storage facility and get a late lunch," Jethro suggested as the doors dinged open and they entered the small box.

"Sure. There's this really good deli not far from the hotel. They have the best pastrami sandwiches." He was feeling better than he had in weeks.

There was only one hurdle he now had to get through before he could leave Washington behind him. The next morning he'd hand in his resignation to Assistant Director Walther and then he and Jethro could return to D.C.- return home.

* * *

**A/N: Any thoughts?**


	19. Chapter 19: The Resignation

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **As you may be able to tell, I ran out of pre-written chapters, so now I have to juggle writing this story and Till Death Do We Part between work and everything else I have to bother with doing. I have very little time to write now, but never fear, there may be more time between chapters, but they'll keep coming.

**Chapter 19**

**The Resignation**

Assistant Director Walther was an attractive man of medium height with an attitude nothing like that of his boss. Speaking to him wouldn't be as bad as speaking to Vance, but he was still anticipating having to argue for his freedom. He'd already come up with his argument, and while there was a grain of truth to what he planned to say to his boss, he hoped that the man would go for it without questioning him too much.

He left Jethro in his office. Larkin and Morris weren't there, and his partner settled at his desk to wait. Tony has suggested he come with him to speak with Walther- just for emotional support- but Jethro had refused. It had made Tony's gut churn, but he'd accepted it. He did have to do some things for himself.

"Agent DiNozzo," Walther greeted him when Tony knocked on the door and entered. "It's been quite a while. I hope you are well."

"Yes, sir," Tony nodded, stopping in front of the large, glass desk that Walther was sitting behind.

"We're glad to have you back. Your team has not enjoyed taking orders from Agent Rosen," Walther shot him a grin.

"I'd like to hand in my resignation," Tony jumped to the point without waiting.

"Resignation?" Walther seemed genuinely shocked.

"Yes," Tony nodded, setting the envelope containing his letter on the desktop for Walther to take. "I've been considering my options over the last eight weeks and this is what I think is for the best."

Walther stared at him without picking up the envelope, and Tony met his eyes. Walther wasn't the control freak that Vance was, but Tony knew better than to try and pull the wool over his eyes.

"Does this have something to do with Agent Morris?" Walther wondered, his eyes narrowed.

"This has everything to do with Agent Morris," Tony nodded.

"She's a little twit. She'll be gone before you know it. There's no reason to resign because of her," Walter shook his head.

"I can't stand her anymore. She's one of the worst agents I have ever had to work with. She's unprofessional, disrespectable, rude, and dangerous. Just before I left she got an innocent civilian killed. She has no place with this agency. She's a lawsuit waiting to happen, and I'm not willing to put my career on the line for her. We've talked about this before."

"And before I assured you that your job is perfectly safe. Your complaints have been documented. I've taken them to Director Vance, and he talked to SecNav about his concerns," Walther responded.

"SecNav isn't going to do a damn thing about her," Tony protested. "I'm not taking the risk."

"I don't have to accept your resignation," Walther warned him.

"No, you don't," Tony agreed, "but if you don't, it doesn't mean that I'm going to keep working. I'm not working with her, and the fact that we can't get rid of her, speaks volumes about the way this agency is being run."

He could see the wheels turning in Walther's eyes, but stepped in before he could say anything.

"Sir, I don't mean to be disrespectful, and I don't mean to suggest that you are the reason for this problem. In all honesty, I think you do your job well and you're stuck with her just as much as I am, and just as much as Larkin is. She's casting all of us in a bad light, and I want out before my reputation is irreparably damaged," Tony tried.

Walther finally dropped his steely gaze and sighed. "I'd wondered when you were going to have enough."

"I have had more than enough," Tony muttered.

"She's going to ruin us all," Walther admitted. "I had a meeting with Rosen last week. He didn't want her working on his team, either. I passed on his complaints to Vance too."

"SecNav isn't going to do anything," Tony told him, but Walther's face told him that he already knew that.

"He's under the deluded assumption that she's perfect. It's going to get us all in hot water eventually," Walther sighed, reaching forward and picking up the envelope with nimble fingers.

"I don't want to be here when that happens," Tony said.

"Vance won't like this," Walther told him, confirming that the Director had called to speak with him regarding Tony's last meeting.

"Vance doesn't have to like it," Tony responded.

NCIS

Tony entered his office feeling triumphant, but the moment he spotted Morris sitting on the corner of her desk evaluating Jethro with her arms crossed over her chest, he was immediately on guard. She looked innocent in her pinstriped pants and white blouse, her eyes never leaving what she viewed to be her next conquest, and it made him shiver. He didn't think he could hate her more.

"Tony!" Larkin grinned from where he sat at his own desk. "It's so good to see you again. We were worried after we saw your apartment…"

"I'm fine," Tony assured him, and he wished with everything he had within him that Walther would transfer the younger agent to another team.

Larkin wasn't in anyway ready to lead his own team, but he had potential as an agent. He worked hard, and he had the skills required of the job- all he needed was the experience. If he could get away from Morris, Tony was sure he'd have a long, fulfilling career.

"But I'm not staying," Tony continued before Larkin or Morris, who had turned to face him with cold eyes, could say anything. "I've tendered my resignation. I'll only be here long enough to pack my desk."

"Good!" Morris declared just as Larkin said, "what?"

Tony motioned at Larkin that he would explain when Morris left before pulling open the top drawer of his desk and evaluating its contents. He really didn't want to take much more than he needed to, so he planned to toss out the majority of the things in his desk. He'd keep his mighty mouse stapler, ad his coffee mug, but his calendar could go in the trash.

It didn't take long for Morris to leave the office, going where, Tony didn't bother to ask. She was no longer his problem, and he couldn't wait until she was out of his life forever.

"You can't leave me here with that thing!" Larkin immediately snapped.

"She won't be a problem for very long," Jethro said, and Tony sent him a warning look.

"Look, Larkin," Tony said, approaching the man's desk to try and calm him. "I'm almost positive that Walther is going to bring in Remers SFA, Fields, to run the team. You won't be alone to deal with her. I suggest you put in for a transfer as soon as you can."

"I put in for a transfer two months ago," Larkin admitted. "We didn't think you were coming back."

"Well, hopefully it goes through soon," Tony said, sticking a hand out for the younger man to shake, which he did, albeit a bit hesitantly. "It's been wonderful working with you. You're a great agent. Don't let Morris kill your drive."

"Yes, sir," Larkin nodded.

They didn't stay for more than another twenty minutes. Tony took his bag of things he'd decided to keep, and led Jethro out of the office. They'd just gotten to the car when his phone began to go off, and the caller ID indicated a blocked number. His heart sunk as he stared at the small device for a moment, but then he pressed the button to ignore the call and got into the car. The chirping of a voice message a few moments later, as he sat in the passenger seat, made him jump. He didn't need to check it to know who was calling.

* * *

**A/N: **Nobody like Morris very much. I don't like Morris, for certain, but, as Jethro said, she won't be a problem for very much longer...

**Any Thoughts?**

**Also, **don't forget to check out This Ren on Facebook!


	20. Chapter 20: The Hotel

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **I must alert you here, in the beginning, that this chapter contains Adult Content. It's an entire chapter of Adult Content. If you're not into m/m sex and such, I would recommend not reading this chapter. That's all it basically is. You can simply skip to the next, which I will upload in a few days, and you're understanding of what's going on the story won't be affected.

* * *

**Chapter 20**

**The Hotel**

"Can we go to bed?" Jethro wondered that night as he watched Tony pace across the hotel room. "We have an early flight tomorrow."

"No," Tony shook his head.

He'd been antsy since they left the NCIS building that morning, but it had progressed throughout the day. Tony hadn't sat still for more than five minutes since they'd gotten back to the hotel room, and it was starting to drive Jethro insane.

"What's wrong?" Jethro demanded, reaching out a hand to grab the younger man as he passed by on another lap.

"Nothing," Tony refused, pulling away and stalking to the bathroom before turning around.

"If it was nothing, you wouldn't be trying to wear a trench in the carpet," Jethro pointed out. "Would you relax? I don't want to have to pay to have the carpet replaced."

Tony stopped in front of him and set his hands on Jethro's shoulders, leaning down to touch their foreheads together. Jethro wrapped his arms lightly around Tony's waist and waited. There was nothing he could say that would make his partner open up about what was going through his head. He'd just have to be patient and wait for Tony to tell him.

"I want to go home," Tony sighed, and Jethro could smell the mint on his breath from when he'd brushed his teeth.

"Tomorrow morning," Jethro assured him. "Our flight leaves early. We'll be back in D.C. by dinner."

"I want to go now," Tony complained.

"There aren't any flights out tonight," Jethro reminded him. "It's just a few more hours. Everything will be fine. I told you, I won't let anybody hurt you."

"I'm not afraid that somebody is going to hurt me," Tony disagreed, allowing his fingers to rub at Jethro's shoulder blades.

"Then talk to me. I can't read your mind," Jethro pressed, pulling at him, so Tony was forced to take a step closer.

Tony licked his lips, but instead of speaking, he pressed his moistened lips against Jethro's. Whether it was a distraction technique or what, Jethro didn't know, but he didn't push it. Tony had not been the touchiest of people lately, and while he'd kept his distance, Jethro had been yearning to kiss him since the moment Tony showed up on his doorstep.

"I really want to go home," Tony whispered when he'd pulled out of the kiss.

"If I could rearrange the flight schedule, I would," Jethro sighed.

"I would just rather be at home for this," Tony said before their lips connected again.

"Pretend we're at home," Jethro urged him when he realized what Tony had in mind, hooking his fingers through the belt loops of his partner's trousers and pulling him forcefully against his chest. "Pretend we're in our room. In our bed."

Jethro was not used to taking it slow, and he was not used to being in charge, but he didn't want Tony to panic and change his mind. He'd take whatever his partner was willing to give him without complaint, and he do everything in his power to ease his discomfort. If that meant relinquishing control to Tony, he'd do it.

Tony pushed him flat onto his back before straddling his hips and laying his palms against Jethro's chest. It was very obvious he was nervous, and he pulled back, falling onto the bed.

"It's okay," Jethro assured him, reaching out to grab Tony's hand. "There's no rush. We'll do this when you feel comfortable."

"I just…I don't want to disappoint you," Tony sighed, laying down so his head was level with Jethro's, his long legs hanging off the end of the bed.

"You couldn't disappoint me," Jethro told him.

Tony scoffed and sat up to move away, but Jethro pushed himself up and wrapped his arms around Tony's torso before he could leave. The younger man didn't fight his hold, but Jethro left it lose to avoid making Tony feel like he was being trapped or forced into anything. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

"God," Tony moaned, covering his face with his hands as Jethro rubbed his thumbs against the knots in his shoulders.

"Just relax," Jethro whispered in his ear.

"I want…" Tony began, but didn't finish.

"What do you want?" Jethro wondered, pressing a soft kiss behind his ear lobe.

"I want you to make love to me," Tony responded.

"I want to make love to you," Jethro assured him.

"Then you should," Tony murmured.

"I will," Jethro promised, but he pulled away. "When we get home. When you're feeling more comfortable."

"You're my home," Tony corrected him.

"You're trying to make this hard on me, aren't you?" Jethro grinned, leaning back on his palms.

"No," Tony shook his head, turning to look back at him. "I just want you to make love to me. I know you want to."

"Of course I want to," Jethro admitted.

"Than do it," Tony pushed.

"I don't want you to regret it," Jethro refused.

"I won't regret it," Tony corrected him. "I want to do this. I want to do this with you, right now. I just need you…I need you to stop trying to talk me out of it."

Tony's lips were on his in a matter of seconds, soft and warm, but timid and nervous at the same time. Jethro slipped his hands around his partners head, holding them together as he deepened the kiss, using the tip of his tongue to open Tony's lips. The younger man moaned into the kiss, fisting his hands in Jethro's shirt and pulling their bodies closer together.

"If you stop kissing me, I'll hate you forever," Tony swore when they'd broken apart for air.

"It's a good thing I don't plan to stop then," Jethro grinned before kissing him again.

Jethro had to admit he'd missed the kissing. It had always been so perfect- their lips and tongues moving in perfect synchrony. Sure, the occasional peck in the last few months had been nice, but it was nothing like this. This was passionate and full of need. Perfect, and exactly what he wanted.

In all honesty, Jethro was torn. Tony wanted him to take the lead- that much was abundantly clear- but he didn't want to push Tony past his limits.

"I'm not a piece of glass," Tony moaned, pulling him backwards so Jethro was lying on top of him. "Touch me."

Touch him, Jethro did. He ran his hands beneath Tony's shirt, rubbing at the muscles of his chest and stomach. He massaged his nipples with his thumbs, eliciting a strangled moan from his partner. It was all too easy to get Tony out of his shirt, pulling at the buttons without being gentle. He kissed his way down Tony's jaw, neck, and chest before clamping his mouth around the nipple and whirling his tongue around the hard bead.

Tony was tugging at his shirt after only a moment, and Jethro released his nipple to let him pull the white cotton fabric over his head. When the shirt had joined Tony's on the floor, Jethro returned his lips to Tony's torso, kissing down his chest and abdomen until he reached the waistband of Tony's trousers. As he unbuttoned them and tugged the fabric down his hips, he felt Tony tense, so he pulled his hands away.

"Don't stop," Tony scolded him as he folded his hands behind his head.

"Tell me what to do to make you more comfortable," Jethro implored, resting his forehead against Tony's abs and breathing in the smell of his skin.

"I'm fine," Tony protested. "I'm hard, aren't I?"

"That doesn't mean you're comfortable," Jethro refused.

Tony wiggled and pushed at Jethro to get off of him, which he did without protest. He slid onto the bed to lay on his back, his gaze locked on the white ceiling above them.

"I'm annoyed with you," Tony told him after a moment.

"I can see that," Jethro sighed.

"If I didn't want to do it, I would have said so," Tony kept going, and Jethro was silent so Tony could get his frustration off his chest. "I said the opposite. I told you to do it. Cleary, if I say I want to do it, than I want to do it."

"I think," Jethro said when Tony lapsed into silence, "that you're trying to force yourself to do something because you think that I want to do it."

"It was my idea," Tony corrected him, but his tone suggested that Jethro was right.

Turning over onto his side, Jethro looked at his partner intensely for a good minute. Tony glanced at him, but then returned his gaze to the ceiling. He didn't say anything, and Jethro didn't push him to.

"I will wait," Jethro promised him, reaching out to rest a palm against Tony's chest, right above his heart. "I am happy to wait. You don't have to force anything, and I'm not going to force you to do anything. I want this to be comfortable."

They didn't talk for a long time. For at least an hour they laid on the bed, managing to find a comfortable position with Tony's head resting on Jethro's chest, and their legs entwined. This was comfortable, and it was what Jethro enjoyed. Holding Tony, knowing that the younger man was his and that they were in love was all Jethro needed to be happy.

"I'm scared," Tony admitted just as Jethro was beginning to doze off.

"What are you afraid of?" Jethro wondered, running a hand through his partner's hair softly.

"I know that you would never hurt me," Tony replied, "but every time I think about…about having sex, I think it's going to hurt, and it scares me."

"I'll never hurt you," Jethro promised.

"I know," Tony assured him. "I just thought that if we made love I wouldn't be scared anymore. I can't get over this if I don't prove to myself that I can."

"That doesn't have to be right now," Jethro said. "When we get home…"

"I don't want to wait until we get home," Tony objected.

"What do you want me to do then?" Jethro asked, trying not to sound irritated, but failing as his frustration seeped into his voice.

"I want you to make love to me," Tony sighed, rubbing his hand along Jethro's chest. "I want you to touch me, and kiss me, and make love to me. I'm scared, but it's what I want."

"And if you change your mind?" Jethro pressed.

"If I change my mind, I'll tell you to stop. I trust you, Jethro. I know that you'll respect me if I ask you to stop," Tony answered.

"I would stop," Jethro nodded in agreement.

Despite his gentler tone, Jethro didn't make a move to do anything. He continued to run his hand through Tony's hair and hold him against his chest. He didn't stop Tony when his hand slid down his stomach, nor did he stop him when he unbuttoned the top of his jeans. He didn't do anything at all until Tony's hand was wrapped around his cock, which was hardening very quickly at the touch.

Tony's strokes were slow, with just the right amount of pressure, and Jethro couldn't stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat. His partner was an expert at getting him off, and he was definitely playing dirty to get him to do what he wanted.

It was not difficult to pull himself from beneath Tony and roll over on top of him. As Tony continued to stroke him, not once taking his hand off of Jethro's hardness through the move, Jethro leaned down to kiss him. Tony's free hand pulled at his jeans in an attempt to pull them down his legs and release his hard member, but the task wasn't achieved until Jethro helped him, relishing the freedom that came with the removal of the rest of his clothing.

"You can't say you don't like that," Tony grinned as he sped the pace of his strokes.

"Shut up," Jethro moaned before covering his mouth with a wet kiss.

"Ah, ah, ah," Tony shook his head with a grin and removed his hand as Jethro came close to his climax. "I don't think so."

"Tony," Jethro groaned in disappointment.

"The quicker you get in me, the quicker you can come," Tony told him, unbuttoning his own pants and pushing them down his hips.

"Blackmail," Jethro sighed, helping him with his task.

"Get the lube out of my bag," was Tony's response, bucking his hips against his partners to get him moving. "It's in the side pocket."

Jethro did as he was told, grabbing the lube and getting back on the bed. Tony took the small bottle and poured some of the liquid onto his fingers before he tossed it onto the bed beside them and straddled his partners lap.

"I'll get myself ready," he said before pressing their lips together.

Jethro didn't protest and instead shoved his tongue in Tony's mouth. As his partner stretched himself, Jethro reached down to grab Tony's erection and stroke it as the younger man had done to him earlier.

"I'm ready," Tony moaned, pulling out of the kiss a moment later.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Jethro made him promise as he pushed Tony onto his back and hovered over him.

"I will," Tony swore, before grabbing Jethro's head and forcing it down so their lips could meet.

Jethro continued to kiss him as he slid himself into Tony. He was halfway in when Tony pulled his mouth from his, his breathing ragid.

"You okay?" Jethro asked, wondering if he should stop while he ached to continue.

"Fine," Tony breathed in response, his eyes closed, and his held turned to the side. "Keep going."

"Only if you look at me," Jethro responded.

It took a moment, but Tony straightened his head and opened his eyes.

"Look at me while I make love to you," Jethro leaned down to whisper in his ear as he pushed the rest of himself inside of his partner. "It's me, and I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know," Tony said, running his hands up Jethro's back, wrapping his hands around his shoulder blades, and holding their bare chests together.

Jethro took it slowly, keeping his thrusts gentle and slow. Every few moments Tony would moan in his ear as Jethro hit his prostate. He didn't speed up his pace until Tony began to thrust against him, and Jethro held his partners hips for leverage, pushing in and pulling out rapidly, and enjoying the feel of Tony around him and the sounds of his moans.

As Tony reached between them for his erection, Jethro swatted his hand away, wrapping his own around it instead.

"Make me come," Tony begged. "Please, Jethro."

Jethro pumped the hard flesh in synchrony with his thrusts as he felt his own climax begin. Just as Tony spurted his seed out on his abdomen, Jethro exploded inside of him.

Falling onto the bed beside Tony, Jethro wrapped shaky arms around his partners chest and rested his chin on his shoulder. They were silent for a moment before Tony spoke.

"See, Jethro, now I'm not nearly so nervous," the younger man smiled at him, and Jethro couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

**A/N: **Let me first say that I don't usually write scenes like this...and with that said, please let me know what you think!


	21. Chapter 21: The Final Confrontation

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS. I just like to play with the characters.

**A/N: **So, technically this is the last chapter. There's an epilogue after this, but it's really short (not surprising, lol).

**Also, **there is is some language in this chapter that some might find offensive, but in an effort to make it as realistic as possible, I really couldn't have kept their language rated G. I apologize in advance if certain terms in this chapter offend you, as it is not my intent to offend anybody.

**Chapter 21**

**The Final Confrontation**

It was nearly three o'clock in the morning, and for a moment Tony had no idea why he was awake. He was wrapped in Jethro's arms, very warm and very satisfied. Jethro was stirring beside him as well. It was silent around them, and Tony chalked his wakefulness up to his partner's movement. Closing his eyes, Tony instantly began to drift back to sleep, but a soft sound from outside the door had him instantly awake.

"I think somebody is outside," Tony said, nudging Jethro with his shoulder.

"They've been out there for a while," Jethro responded, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"What are they doing?" Tony wondered.

"I have no idea. I was going to get up and check before you woke up," Jethro answered.

"Do it," Tony pushed at him. "I want to go back to sleep."

The absence of his partner in bed made Tony shiver, and he turned over to watch Jethro. The older man pulled on a pair of sweat and a t-shirt before heading for the door.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked when Jethro stopped at the small alcove containing the coffee pot and began rummaging in the drawer beneath it.

Jethro shot him a glance as he withdrew his service revolver and shoved it into the back of his sweats. Tony grinned. Jethro was always the cautious one. Tony couldn't see the door, but he heard Jethro pull it open, and the giggling girl on the other side who wished him a good morning and proceeded to explain that they'd locked themselves out of their room. She was obviously drunk, and after Jethro told her to keep the noise down, he closed the door and returned to the bed.

"Are we going to sleep with your gun?" Tony asked as Jethro passed the drawer without stopping.

Jethro shot him a look as he set the weapon on the bedside table and slid between the sheets.

"What's wrong?" Tony asked, furrowing his brow as he turned over to look at his partner.

"I have a bad feeling," Jethro responded stiffly.

"What kind of bad feeling?" Tony wondered. "Like a, 'shit, what did I just do?' feeling, or a 'something really bad is about to happen,' feeling?"

"Did I do something I'm supposed to regret?" Jethro asked, nuzzling into Tony's neck.

"No," Tony responded.

Despite the heavy conversation, and the obvious tenseness of his partner, Tony felt himself falling back to sleep. He was comfortable wrapped up with Jethro, and for the first time since arriving in Washington, he felt safe. Jethro, bad feeling or no, would protect him.

The ringing of his cell phone on the bedside table beside Jethro's gun had him nearly jumping out of his skin.

"The numbers blocked," Jethro said upon picking the device up.

A trill of fear spiked through Tony's spine and he grabbed the phone out of Jethro's hand. Perhaps his bad feeling was something he needed to listen too. Tony ignored the call and turned the phone off before tossing it onto the carpeted floor beside the bed.

"What was that?" Jethro wondered, and Tony turned to see him cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Nothing," Tony shook his head, but by then fear was already eating at him.

"Will you stop saying it's nothing? Jethro demanded. "I know it isn't nothing. Be straight with me."

Tony pursed his lips. Should he tell Jethro who the phone call was from? Should he admit that the person who had attacked him so many months ago was harassing him? What would Jethro do with the information? Tony didn't get the chance to ponder on this further, or answer his partner, as in the next moment the door of their room had burst open, the wood splintering at the chain failed to keep it closed.

Jethro had his gun in hand in a matter of seconds, pointing it towards the doorway, as Tony sat bolt upright, holding the comforter over his bare chest.

They were the same people that had attacked him months ago, and Tony froze as the two large, masked bastards made their way into the room, followed by a tall, lanky third member. All three were carrying guns. Jethro shoved Tony behind him, his own gun still held steady in front of him as he faced the intruders. Tony gripped his arm tightly, unable to release his hold as he stared at the people in front of them with wide eyes.

"I should have realized," a familiar voice came from the third member, and Tony's heart constricted in his chest as he realized who was behind his assault. "Of course you'd be too big of a wuss to sleep by yourself."

"What the hell?" Tony demanded, moving from behind Jethro to face their 'guests' himself. "I thought we were friends, Larkin!"

He certainly had thought they were friends. He'd taken Larkin under his wing, had praised him to both the Assistant Director and the Director. He'd never said a bad word against the man in his life. If he was to suspect anybody at work of being his attacker, it would have been the selfish, stuck up, incompetent Morris.

"Really?" Larkin asked, pulling off his mask to expose his familiar features. "I can't imagine why you'd think I'd be friends with a queer."

"Fucking fairy," one of the goons muttered and the other chuckled at the insult.

"I had high hopes for you," Larkin went on, holding up a hand to silence his companions. "You came in and it seemed like you knew what you were doing. You straightened out a whole lot of shit our last team leader fucked up. I really thought it was going to work. Not even that bitch Morris managed to drive you off."

"So you just couldn't take the fact that he liked men?" Jethro tossed at them, pushing at Tony to get back behind him, though Tony refused to budge. "That's pathetic."

"I don't need a fag telling me what to do," Larkin responded.

"I never took you for a homophobe," Tony shook his head. "It's too bad really. You should have just sucked it up."

"Oh, I tried, but every time I looked at you, I saw you with your lips all over Brent from accounting. It's disgusting," Larkin snarled. "It's not right, and we don't need perverted queers like you in our agency."

"Who's Brent from accounting?" Jethro asked as Tony tried to recall ever having kissed Brent, who was interning with them from one of the local universities that he could never remember the name of.

"You didn't tell your new lover about little Brent?" Larkin grinned.

Tony frowned. He had no idea what Larkin was talking about.

"They dated," Larkin turned to Jethro. "I saw them at the movies. They were all over each other."

"That wasn't a date," Tony couldn't help but scoff as he realized Larkins mistake. "I was new and he was showing me around. I told him I liked movies so he showed me his favorite theater in town. I kissed him on the cheek when we said goodbye. It was an inside joke."

"You're just trying to save your ass," Larkin refused the explanation. "Besides, I was right. You don't think I did some digging? You're as queer as they come, DiNozzo."

"I never tried to hide it," Tony said.

Why should he have? He hid his relationship with Jethro for years, and it hadn't done anything but cause problems. He hadn't flaunted his sexual orientation at the office, but he certainly hadn't kept the secret shut away as tightly as possible. Washington was supposed to be a fresh start, and he'd met plenty of people who had been very accepting of him.

"You're a disgusting disgrace to this agency," Larkin cried, obviously tired of the banter. "I tried to teach you a lesson before. I thought you'd bleed out where I left you on the floor. I was very surprised to find out you weren't dead, but I knew you'd have to show up sooner or later, and you didn't disappoint."

"I resigned," Tony said. "I don't work for NCIS anymore."

"But you've still tainted it," Larkin snapped. "You've still tarnished the name of this agency. That can't be forgiven. You have to pay for it. Both of you have to pay for it."

Tony couldn't help but think this entire thing was ridiculous. Was he still sleeping? This must be some kind of crazy nightmare he was having. Larkin had been his friend. They had gone for drinks together, had seen a few movies. Tony had even had Larkin and his girlfriend over for dinner at his apartment a couple of times. How could he not have noticed that the man hated his guts? What kind of investigator couldn't pick up on that? The animosity was clearly rolling off of him in waves now.

Of course his blindness was not the thing he was worrying about the most. How they were going to get out of this mess was beyond him. He'd turned in his gun when he'd resigned, and he hadn't brought a back up weapon. All they had was Jethro's gun, and while Tony trusted his partner and knew he was the best, he couldn't ignore the fact that there were three armed men on the other side of their hotel room ready to fire at will. The odds were definitely not in their favor.

"Get behind me," Jethro told him quietly, barely turning his head as he kept his weapon steady.

"No," Tony shook his head in refusal.

He was not going to let Jethro be his shield. He'd caused this problem. He'd dragged his partner into the middle of it. While looking at the three men in front of him and knowing what they had done had him shaking, he knew he wasn't weak. He wasn't going to be a coward. He was going to face them, and whether he came out the other side alive, which he certainly hoped they both would, he would be the better person for it.

Jethro held his gaze for only a moment, his blue eyes locked with Tony's green before he nodded and turned back to face Larkin and his goons.

Tony wasn't expecting the sudden gunfire, and he wasn't sure exactly who shot off the first round, but it didn't matter. Jethro was firing, and the goons were firing, and Larkin was firing, and Tony was very much wishing that he had a gun so he could be shooting too. Almost as quickly as it had started, it was over, leaving a ringing in Tony's ears and the taste of gunpowder in his mouth.

"Wow," Jethro's voice broke through the silence that had consumed the room, and Tony blinked his eyes rapidly to bring the scene back into focus.

His partner was still sitting on the bed beside him, his gun still held high in front of him as he evaluated the scene. There was destruction everywhere. The bed in front of them was a mess of ripped fabric and cotton. The ceiling that had once been pristine was marred by bullet holes, as was the far wall. The goons were very obviously dead. Blood seeped from one's head and the other's neck. Jethro had definitely been aiming to kill. Larkin was grasping an arm that was seeped in blood, his weapon spent and laying not far away from him.

Sitting in the middle of all that destruction, Tony took everything in and then began to laugh. He didn't laugh at Larkin or the dead goons, or the situation with them. No, he laughed at himself. How could he possibly have thought that they were any match for Leroy Jethro Gibbs? The man was invincible! Tony couldn't believe he'd been afraid they wouldn't make it out of there alive. In all of the years he'd known Jethro, had the man ever not been able to get out of a sticky situation?

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**A/N: **Was it what you were expecting? Let me know what you think! If I didn't answer one of your questions, do let me know so I can fix it!


	22. The Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I don't on NCIS. Not even a tiny fraction of it.

**A/N:** I would like to say thank you to everybody who reviewed the last chapter. FF . net would not let me personally respond to individual reviews (without PMing, which was too complicated for my little phone to handle). Thank you so much for your reviews! They really meant a lot to me!

**The Epilogue**

Taking a deep breath, Tony willed himself to calm down. He squeezed Jethro's hand tightly, and it helped to ease his racing heartbeat, but only slightly. His 'fight or flight' reflex was in full gear, and he was having trouble not bolting out of the courthouse, down the steps, and as far away from the blasted place as he possibly could.

He berated himself for his lack of a backbone. This wasn't the hard part after all. He'd already testified about what Larkin had done. He'd felt disgusting as he'd described that terrible night so long ago- a night he'd only recently felt comfortable enough to talk to Jethro about. He'd gone back to their hotel and sat in the shower beneath the scolding hot flow of water until it had turned to ice and Jethro had forced him out. They had proceeded to get very drunk after that, making love on the floor and falling asleep in a heap of arms and legs.

"We don't have to stay," Jethro whispered in response to his hand squeeze.

"Yes we do," Tony argued, his eyes glued on the empty jury booth on the other side of the room.

They'd waited two days to be informed that the jury had returned a verdict, and it didn't sit well with Tony. Despite the fact that there were two eye witnesses to the catastrophe in the hotel room, and a federal agent had heard Larkin admit to the attack on Tony months before it, he was still worried that the jury would let Larkin off the hook. What would he do if that happened? Sure, he was living in D.C. with Jethro again, but that wouldn't stop Larkin from coming after him if he was acquitted.

If their case against him was so strong, why had it taken the jury so long to return with a verdict? Larkin had a good lawyer, who had put up quite the fight. What if their eyewitness testimony wasn't good enough?

"Why?" Jethro pushed.

"I have to know," Tony responded.

Jethro dropped his hand, and Tony almost panicked. Didn't his partner knew he needed his touch to ground him? He settled back down when Jethro draped his arm over his shoulders and pulled him close. It was a protective, reassuring position, and Tony tried to relax.

He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter what the verdict was. No matter what happened, Jethro would never let Larkin touch him again- Jethro would protect him. He was still anxious though. He wanted the disgusting man behind bars. Honestly, he wouldn't have been very upset if the man was tortured and murdered for what he'd done, but he wasn't going to say that to anybody.

"It'll be okay," Jethro had promised him the night before while they'd been eating dinner at a fancy restaurant of Tony's choosing.

"I know that," Tony had said at the time, and he'd still say it then, even though he clearly wasn't feeling so.

They followed the formalities of the court room when the judge entered, and then waited anxiously for the jury to file in. Tony kept his eyes on the lead juror, who stood nervously facing the judge in his outdated and very unfashionable tweed suit. Only one word that the man spoke registered in Tony's brain.

Guilty.

He was guilty.

Larkin was guilty.

It was like the world stopped turning for a moment, and all Tony could do was stare at the lead juror with his mouth slightly open. Every thought fled his brain, except for the repetition of the word 'Guilty.' When his senses kicked back in, he almost couldn't believe it. The jury had found him guilty!

Suddenly, Jethro was hugging him so tightly Tony thought he was being crushed, but he really didn't care. Larkin was guilty. GUILTY. He wanted to shout it from the roof tops. He'd never thought a single word could make him feel so…relieved, because he certainly wasn't happy. Happy would be erasing this whole situation from his memory.

As they left the court house, walking hand in hand, Tony was happy that this whole thing was over with. They could go home and not bother having to return to Washington ever again- though Tony really hadn't minded doing the tourist thing with Jethro for the few free days they'd been in the state, as spending the time with his partner along the gorgeous coast had been very enjoyable. Sure, there was still the sentencing to go to, but Tony found that he really could care less about it. Larkin was guilty, and he was going to prison for his crimes, and it really didn't matter how long it was going to be for. The list of charges he's just been found guilty of were extensive- attempted murder, assault, and rape were just the beginning. Tony had no doubt that Larkin would be spending the better part- if not the rest- of his life in prison. There would be a public outrage if he received anything less.

Relieved definitely summed it up.

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**A/N: **So there it is! The final piece of the puzzle. I'd love to hear what you think!

**Thank you to everybody who stuck with this story and reviewed! I know I dragged it out and was pretty evil about not answering your questions, but I was so excited by every review and alert I received along the way! You guys are awesome and I'm so glad that you enjoyed this story!**


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